Time Expired
by DaveO
Summary: Sally Carmichael, a dying woman of 93, has lived a full life and is ready for the end. After a near death experience in the hospital, however, she finds her body is changing, getting younger as time moves on. Love and violence follow her in her new life.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1d12

Time Expired

Chapter 1

It was raining again for the eighth straight day in Seattle and Kari Dietz was sick of it. Plodding along in her old Honda Civic, she listened to the brakes screech in the stop-and-go traffic like some hideous dragon trying to give birth. The radio delivered the happy news again: More rain tomorrow.

She crawled forward and the brakes screamed again, causing her to glance over at the driver in the lane next to her. She expected to see that look again - the one that said, 'Fix it or park it, lady.' Kari watched the man trying to light a fat cigar with one of those tiny car-lighters. She could see the lighter between his equally fat fingers throwing an orange glow onto the man's face. It made him look demonic, and she thought the bluish haze of smoke wrapping around his head confirmed his connection to Satan.

She inched forward and the Honda screeched again, and Mr. Monte Cristo looked over to scowl through the smoke. She frowned back, two dragons sizing each other up. He smiled at her, removed the cigar to suck in the tar that would eventually kill him, and then winked through the greasy, rain-soaked window. She could see the red-X painted on his forehead through the glass, but she smiled back before moving forward again.

"Fuck you, asshole," she mumbled under her breath. "Damn brakes." She leaned forward to peer up under the Honda's headliner, looking for anything blue that might suggest the sky really existed outside. "Damn rain."

A quick honk from behind yanked her attention back and she finally made the left turn that would bless her passage out of the clogged artery of taillights. The Civic accelerated ahead with that buzzing, 'It's about freakin' time you gave me some gas,' sound, interrupted quickly by her shift to second. She saw the Traveler's Bank marquee of lights: Sixty-eight degrees.

"Yeah, we all know it's cold… what's the time? What's the bloody time?" The white bulbs changed to deliver the requested information: 4:54PM.

"Damn it! I'm going to be late again." She banged on the steering wheel and the horn farted back at her in protest. "Nurse Ratched is going to fire me this time for sure."

She finally pulled into the Mercy Center Hospital employee lot and screeched again at the gate. She quickly fumbled for her pass in her purse.

"Come on… where the hell is it? Don't tell me I left… oh, thank God."

She rolled down her window and squinted through the rain that had mercifully turned into a light mist and slide the card through the narrow gap. The little light in the panel turned red. Cussing about Nurse Ratched again, she turned the card around and tried again. The wooden gate bent at the elbow as it rose, confirming she still had a job. She quickly parked.

"It's five-o'clock — quittin' time!" sang the radio announcer gaily, adding that irksome whistle that marked the conclusion of what was supposed to be the end of a normal human day.

"Shit! Shit-shit-shit-SHIT! I'm going need a coke at midnight," she told herself knowingly, grabbing up her purse to dig through the console under the dash. She tossed various items to the floor next to her, looking for quarters.

"Come on, I'm late — I'm late!" she sneered, tossing the gaudy Mariners' sunglasses over the transmission hump to the floor on the other side.

She finally found her leftover change and groaned, pennies and nickels only. She picked up as much of the silver as she could manage and threw it into her purse, where it jangled its way to the bottom never to be seen again. She unbuckled her belt, reached over to push the locks down, and then finally exited the vehicle, cursing and kicking at everything blocking her way.

It was then that the Honda decided her abused required a response. As she angrily slammed the door, the vehicle threw up a handful of sand-laden mud on the front of her coat.

"Christ! What the hell?" Her shoulders slumped resignedly before looking up at the cloudy sky above her again.

"I'm really sorry… okay? I am, but I could use a little help here." She turned and headed for the employee entrance, wiping off as much of the Honda's excrement as she could manage.

She took a direct line to the front door over the humps of grass-filled curbing, looking up to see if the head nurse was watching for stragglers through her office window. There wasn't anybody there. _So far, so good,_ she thought hopefully.

And then, something happened she would look back to remember and marvel at a full year from that day. She would come to consider it the first sign of many unbelievable things that would happen after that day. She stopped when she saw it, a tiny bird sitting against a red-painted curb with white lettering that warned, _No Parking._ The river of rainwater pelting over the creature's back looked harmless enough, but the sight of it reminded her of one of those scenes where little children were left clinging to trees after a flood. The bird was soaked and shivering as it looked up like a lump of mud more than anything that would eventually take flight."

"Hey little guy." The woman squatted down next to the creature and reached out. "Where's your mother?" The bird jerked up at her and opened its beak threateningly, as if to tell her, 'Leave me the hell alone; my mother will be back shortly.' The rain began to pour harder than ever.

Kari looked up, checking for a toppled nest she might fix or put right. No such luck. She carefully picked up the creature and walked over to closest tree where she set it down next to the trunk. She pulled up the white sign with green letters that read, 'Keep Your Green Lawn Greener with Ortho-Care,' and carefully set it over the bird's head.

"There you go — that should keep you dry enough until your parents find you. Try and stay out of the rain if you can." The woman smiled, thinking she might have set an hour of purgatory aside with her humble gesture. It probably wouldn't come to that given what she said to Mr. Monte Cristo, but what the hell; she was late anyway. She turned and headed inside.

She did the best she could in the elevator to hide her _just-arrived_ state by removing her rain-soaked coat and soggy, knitted hat and gloves. Looking at herself in the stainless steal doors, she knew it was hopeless. Her hair looked like a mop just pulled from the bucket. She entered the palliative care floor and cautiously looked around.

_No nurse Ratched in sight._

She entered the locker room, stuffed her purse and coat inside, straightened the badge on her multicolored smock, rung out her hair so as not to drip on her patients, and then reentered the floor.

"Miss Dietz? You're late again!"

Kari's head dropped a full three inches between her shoulders. _Damn,_ she thought miserably, _I'm doomed._ She slowly peeked around to see her best friend Lisa Bonds staring back at her. Kari's body immediately relaxed.

"God, Lisa. You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you were _She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named_."

The other woman laughed. "Nah… ol' Ratched-ass is stuck in a director's meeting, you lucky dog; nobody here but those of us who still care about people. The night shift-super is out too."

Kari couldn't believe the measure of luck just delivered. She looked around cautiously. "You mean… it's just us?"

"Yep… you, me and Bea."

Kari fell against her friend's shoulder. "Thank goodness. I'm gonna go dry my hair, okay?"

"No problemo: I already got the turnover. We'll do rounds when you're ready."

Twenty minutes later the three nurses were visiting their patients.

"Hello Mr. Donner, and how are you feeling tonight?" Bea said pleasantly.

Donner was a dying man of eighty-six. Suffering through two bouts of cancer, something he liked to call _his father's disease_, he also had a thick case of dementia that usually set his mind back to his first sexual experience seventy years earlier whenever the nurses showed up at his door. The old man looked at the three women and smiled.

"Absolutely beautiful," he wheezed through his clouded mask.

Lisa and Kari looked at each other and grinned. Bea turned and pretended to write something on her clipboard. "Stage four-prostate cancer," she whispered. "The poor dear can't even remember his own name, but he can still get it up like a teenager. If that don't define a man's truest ambitions on earth, nothing else does. It's all about getting us on our back, ladies." Kari tried not to laugh, but she did anyway. She checked Mr. Donner's lines and pump while he watched her intently. She smiled at him and then gave him a flirty wink. It was the little things that made the biggest difference with their patients.

As the three women reached the final door, they stopped to compare notes. Bea, the most ambitious of the three, spoke first. She always did.

"Sally Carmichael, age 93, still on bypass and dialysis, having problems with her ox-levels again, despite the pressures and mix. Her mag and calc levels are… well… you can see the numbers yourself. She had a really bad day yesterday. They ah… don't expect her to survive the night. Bea and Lisa looked at Kari who was still studying the numbers on her copy of the latest test results. Her expression was somber as she slowly looked up at the other two.

"I'm sorry, Kari," Bea said in sympathy. "I know the two of you are pretty close."

Kari had expected this, of course. In fact, she thought it most probable she would have gotten the call that Sally had died over the weekend. Still, the drop in the numbers she was reading tore at her heart like a cheap saw through old growth.

Sally Carmichael had been in and out of the hospital several times over the last five years, going back to when Kari was an emergency room trauma nurse. The old woman followed her career with amused interest up and down the floors of Mercy, and she saw her again after she changed jobs to intensive care and then into physical therapy after Kari's breakdown. Back then Diane Whistler, the one now dubbed _Nurse Ratched_, had been one of Kari's strongest advocates. Whistler used to say Kari reminded her of herself when she first entered nursing. In those days, Kari was ambitious and driving, and looking forward to any new challenge put before her.

Kari wasn't exactly sure when it all started to change for her, or what had lead to her disquieted malaise of hopelessness for anybody entering the hospital. She remembered finding herself sitting on a bench at the hospital entrance during her breaks, mindlessly eating her apple and watching the victims enter Death's motel for troubled souls. It was a strange feeling of doom for anybody spinning through the hospital turnstiles — that last bit of fun before receiving the dreadful news; death's little joke had to be delivered to all before they were allowed to exit again.

Later, Kari's worry and self-doubt seemed to manifest itself into those little, transparent red-Xs she swore she could see on some of the patient's foreheads prior to their dying. That really scared her. It didn't matter that most of those labeled with her mental _death mark_ left the hospital happy and pain free, looking blissfully forward to resuming their mundane lives. No, only those who actually died seemed to gather Kari's attention. Those patients seemed to confirm her ability to see Death's brand long before the scythe's fall. The problem grew worse, and soon Kari was seeing red-Xs walking around the malls and supermarkets, and then on her own forehead in the mirror that dreadful morning before her mental collapse. That's when she turned herself in to the hospital administrators, those working in the Career Crisis Center at Mercy.

To her surprise, the hospital wasn't surprised by her confessions of self-doubt. In fact, they had a whole department ready and willing to help her through that troubling time. She spoke to several resident psychologists and eventually, she felt herself getting better. It took time, but under the hospital's watchful care, she eventually returned to work in a much reduced capacity – physical therapy. Kari always felt the change in her working venue was really the best thing given for her recovery. Helping those who in no way were in trouble of dying ultimately bolstered her ability to set aside the few times the red-X appeared again as nothing more than her own fears brewing up to stab at her consciousness once more. She was happy again, and feeling fulfilled in her methods of delivering care to her patients.

But through her entire recovery process, there was one person who was clearly missing. Diane Whistler never contacted her, never called her to her office, or as far as Kari could tell, she ever made any inquiries to her friends or family about her recovery. Kari tried to make several appointments to see her old mentor, to explain how grateful she was for the hospital's response to her personal crisis, and to assure the hospital's head of nursing that she was feeling her old self again and happy with her work in PT.

She finally saw Diane in an elevator on her way home one day and she asked her old friend if they could speak. It was then, in the chapel next to the hospital exit, that Kari realized she no longer had a friend in Diane Whistler. The woman was clearly angry with Kari for the way she had let herself fall from grace in both her eyes and those Diane said respected her work throughout the rest of the hospital. Whistler said she was embarrassed one of her prospects, one she had taken personally under her wing, would crack under the pressure of the day-to-day job. More than that, she told Kari she would do everything she could to see her gone.

And so it began: Her switch to nights, the continuous transferals to what Kari used to call, "the closet jobs"; a variety of mundane positions assigned to lesser workers, the tasks the real nurses laughed at behind their back. She finally landed in a job she truthfully never thought connected to nursing in any real way — social work. That position really surprised her, especially the long hours and limited respect these workers received from the hospital community, but it wasn't long before Kari came to realize they were helping more patients than most of the doctors she knew.

By everybody's assessment, Kari excelled in each of the jobs she was given. More importantly, she was learning what made a large hospital like Mercy truly work for its patients. Seeing Kari's success must have troubled Diane Whistler, who thought by that time her old protégée would have quit out of frustration and lingering self-doubt.

And then Kari finally landed in the palliative care wing of the hospital where patients like Sally Carmichael were expected to leave this world for parts unknown and outside the science of man. This last assignment seemed to have the lasting effect Diane had been hoping for in Kari. Watching people die week after week was starting to get to her again; those blood-colored red-Xs were showing up all the time now.

Through it all, Sally Carmichael followed Kari everywhere she went in the hospital. From Sally's three trips through the ER, and twice in intensive care, they saw each other again in physical therapy after Sally's fall two years ago. And now, finally, it would seem they would be together again for Sally's last stop at Death's door. Sally talked very little about herself, but as her trips to the hospital became more frequent, and her contact with Kari more friendly, some of the details of her life eventually did come out.

Sally had been born in 1907, the oldest and only daughter of five children, in Mid-West Nebraska. "In a three-room shack on the side of the road where Route 62 connected Stella and Shubert," Sally said. The house her father built was eventually torn down to widen the dirt road — two lanes of shiny blacktop; "a road from-nowhere-to-nowhere," Sally used to say jokingly.

Her father was a farmer. That meant he took care of the land while her mother took care of everything else. Corn, wheat, milo for feed, and nothing of what they called _land management_ for as far as the eye could see. In those days, you planted until the soil wasn't soil anymore. You planted until the ground was nothing more than a dust bowl of lost dreams.

The family walked every inch of those five hundred acres, putting the seed down by hand and delivering a solemn _ahem_ as they covered it with their feet. If you got some rain and your prayers were properly said, the crops grew through the summer and then in the fall they would steal a little for themselves and the animals and sell the rest. A lot gets said about a farmer and his sons, but very little about the daughter of a farmer's wife. Sally was expected to do the wash, feed the chickens, milk the cows, clean the outhouse, and help her mother with supper. The children would work the summers in the field and prayed for what they called the _learnin' time_, the time they were allowed to leave the fields for their lessons in the fall. The schoolteachers were always the mother of somebody's cousin living up the road a bit, somebody who actually graduated high school, but never any college.

And then there was Sunday; God's day — the big breather. Sally always said people took the Lord's given rest pretty seriously back in her day. In a community that relied on its wits to survive the fires, droughts and tornados, you didn't piss on your neighbor like they do today. And a man without church-time was considered Godless, a man best left alone even in the hardest of times. No… going to church, Sally said, was a necessary thing even for the non-believers living in a farming community.

Prohibition started in Nebraska, Sal used to say proudly, even before it went national in 1920. And then came the famine in Russia, and the government paid a little bit more for their corn that year, enough to buy their first tractor. That was high living until the tractor broke and there wasn't enough to buy the parts to get it running again. It rusted out completely in the woods north of the line.

The 1930s brought the devil's drought, the Depression, Route 62, and death for her father from a stroke while working in the fields. The bank took the land, and the government took the house to widen the road. "Private property claimed for public benefit"; that's what Sheriff Landry told her mother as he moved the family's belongings outside on that hot summer day in August. Her mother died the same year they all moved to Omaha. The Great War took two of her brothers, another stroke took junior in 1962, and her baby brother Johnnie Ray was gone from this world before they saw the man walk on the moon.

Sally didn't marry until after her mother died. In fact, she didn't agree to care for another man until her mid-thirties. It was one of those, "I might never come home from fighting the Japs," statements all the girls heard that eventually pushed her mother's values aside. It was the same for many: Even the girls who thought they would never lie with a man did so before waving the best of them off on all those great big ships. It was the same for Sally. She said she thought she would never see the man again, and that was okay. She figured she had done her part for the war by letting him ravage her and then agreeing to marry him before he shipped out to meet his doom at the hands of those slanty-eyed bastards. Her giving up her virginity for the cause didn't make her pregnant like it did so many other girls, and she was thankful for that too. There were too many babies born in the summer of 1942 who would never see their father.

But the man did come back, of course, and as she watched him rolling down the ship's ramp in a wheelchair three years later, she knew she had made a mistake in agreeing to marry him. It wasn't the loss of his left leg that turned her love away. In fact, the Japanese mortal fire that nearly killed him never sidelined his ambitions in the thirty years of marriage that followed that day on the dock. No, it wasn't until he rolled to a stop in front of her and kissed her on the hand that she realized she never loved him in the first place. But a deal's a deal, and even Sally couldn't set her mother's values aside enough to walk away from him. No… she was married now, albeit - not in the eyes of the church, but she had let him fall between her thighs and grunt his way to manhood. The deed was done, and the church made it official a week later.

Sam was a good provider, eventually an executive in a firm that made fencing materials, chain link mostly, but wood and eventually plastics too. They finally left Omaha and moved to Seattle so he could add the contraction _VP_ to a meaningless list of titles on his business card. That truly upset Sally to no end. She said they argued about moving for months before it finally happened, and never slept in the same bed after it was done. But before that time, she had one daughter in 1946 and they had named her Mary after Sally's mother. Mary died while at college in 1966 after taking what the doctors called LSD. The investigation afterward said she had jumped off a second floor balcony. Sally's daughter departed this life thinking she could fly in front of fifty other students while at a party.

Sam died ten years later of a heart attack at his desk at work. Apparently, he had been yelling at one of his salesmen when the Good Lord reached in to seize his heart before he had a chance to say enough to put him on the diving board to Satan's great lake.

Although Sally said she always hated Seattle for all of the rain Nebraska never saw, she couldn't seem to leave it behind given the fact her husband and, more importantly, her beloved Mary were buried there. It always struck Kari that a person shouldn't be forced to live so long as to be a widow longer than they were married, especially after a marriage that lasted more than thirty years. But that was Sally's life through the seventies, the eighties, and nineties — a woman simply existing while she waited for God's final call.

"I'd like to see her alone, if you don't mind," Kari finally told the other two nurses outside of Sally's door. She had a wanting look on her face they thought familiar, but not surprising. It belonged to someone expecting to see a loved one for the last time; the last tribal rite before the new alpha female told her mate to go into the woods and dig a hole.

"Sure. I understand," Lisa replied caringly. She gave her friend a gentle pat on the arm, looked at Bea, and then the two left her alone.

Kari set the chart in the slot on the door, took a deep breath, and then reverently entered the room. She looked purposefully at all the monitors first, insuring the lighted graphs looked to be in their given envelops of acceptability. But when Kari finally looked down at Sally's face she frowned.

Her first thought was that Sally must have somehow died without their knowledge. Her color was a faded gray, almost plastic; an even coating of primer across what should have been the flushed cheeks of somebody simply sleeping. Her chest rose and fell in sync with the click and slap of the ventilator next to the bed.

_Click – whoosh_; her chest rose. _Click – hiss_; her chest fell.

Kari checked the lines gong to the dialysis machine, which was giving off a metallic click-click-clicking sound as the wheel spinning within the housing hit center. She checked the hanging bottles at the top and the collection bags at the bottom; everything was in order.

She placed her hand on Sally's forehead. "So cold." She moved to her hands and feet; they were even colder.

"I'll get you a blanket, Sal. Hang on." She opened the closet and pulled down two blankets and layered them over her friend's body. "There you go, sweetie. That should warm you up a bit." She leaned in to push her white hair back.

"Here you are, honey…" Kari whispered gently, "standing at the door to God's great Kingdom. Is there anything else I can do for you? Is there anything else you need?" She could feel her tears brewing.

"You always said God had a plan for us all, Sal. What more could he have planned for you now?" She caressed the unconscious woman's hand again. "I know there's no one here to tell you this… but I think you've done all you can for your fellow man, Sal. It's time for you to go." She leaned in again. "Let go, Sally. It's time for you to go to God."

There was a beep at the monitor behind her, and Kari spun around to check the vitals again. Heartbeat-52, BP-60/80, Ox levels low, but still acceptable.

"Well… I'll be here for you if you need anything, and I'll be checking in on you all day, okay?" The nurse smoothed the blankets again, sniffed, and then left the room.

For her part, Sally Carmichael was back in Nebraska, her mind floating across the planted fields and hills of the parched countryside she knew so well. And then she was home. Her mother and father were there — her four younger brothers taking a break from planting the seed. Her neighbors were there too, enjoying a cool break after a rising. There was the laughing talk of local politics, and the joy of life that existed before Route 62, the war, and her years of loneliness. Sally was pouring her father a glass of lemonade when he looked up at her and smiled.

"Why are you here, girl?"

There was a sharp squeal overhead, something resembling a siren blaring in the sky above them. Sally sat the silver pitcher down on the warped table of splinters, and looked questioningly at him.

"What do you mean, poppa?"

The rest of the family and neighbors around them started to laugh as her father shook his head and stood. He put his roughened, field-dried hands upon her shoulders and grinned as the sky's siren blared once more.

"How old are you now?" he asked her.

Sally smiled stupidly. "Why I'm…" she stopped and then looked around the table again. Her family and friends were smiling back at like a clowder of Cheshire cats.

"I'm… old… older than all of you!" She grabbed the pitcher and raised it up and stared at her image looking back. Her hair was gray, her skin wrinkled and dry."

Junior, a young boy of sixteen again, raised his glass to her. "You may have noticed that I'm not all there myself." There was another blast in the sky again.

"But why is everybody else so young?" Sally asked them.

Her father leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "Because we're all dead, but you…"

Sally remembered the hospital. "I'm not dead yet?"

"No… you have to go back." There came another blast again, louder this time. Her father looked up at the sky and smiled. "They're calling you back, Sally."

"But why, poppa? Why can't I stay here with you and momma? Why can't I be young too?"

Her mother was suddenly by her side. "You will be, but we're all full up here right now. You'll have to go back until there's room again."

Sally looked around them and at the miles of open space surrounding their little house.

"But there's plenty of room here. I don't understand… why can't I stay? There's too much pain back there. I'm all-alone. I… don't want to go back. Please… poppa…"

Her father reached up and covered her eyes with his hand. As the dirt of his palms took her vision, she heard him say, "You'll do fine. You won't be alone for very long, and you will be as beautiful as the days when we were last together."

There was loud blast again and Sally's eyes immediately popped opened. She could barely see the blurred images of several people moving around her. The doctors and nurses at the hospital were talking loudly, and one was pushing down with both hands on her chest. He immediately let up when she tried to speak.

"You're okay, Sally," came a voice on her right. She looked over and a shape-challenged image of a face came forward, a young girl whose name she couldn't remember. The nametag on her chest said Kari Dietz.

"You can't talk because we have a machine helping you to breathe. You had a close call with your heart, but the doctors were here to help. They're going to give you something to help you sleep, okay?"

Sally didn't want to sleep. She wanted to die, to return to her family sipping lemonade by that dusty road. The weight of ten bricks began to press down on her eyelids, and before Sally could protest she was gone again, dead in all the ways but those important enough to send her home.

Kari left the floor the next morning reliving Sally's night. _Why didn't God take her when he had the chance? She'll never get out of that bed again_. She knew Sally was a very religious woman, but even if she were to awaken,_ what sins would she confess that she hasn't already declared? Why was God keeping her here?_

Kari was frustrated and sad as she pushed through the turnstile into the weather outside. It was raining again, but for the first time in a very long time, she didn't notice. What she did notice before leaving Sally that morning was something quite surprising to her. The bloody red-X: It wasn't on Sally's forehead, and now that she had a chance to think about it… she'd never seen it there.

Kari suddenly become aware of the rain again as it changed from a light drizzle to a downpour, and she cursed the heavens as she pulled her hood over her head. She noticed the white sign she had bent over the baby bird and decided to check him. _A nurse's job is never done_, she thought amusedly.

As she tilted the sign back, she found herself expecting the worse before looking down. Her mouth dropped.

"What the hell?" The woman looked around in surprised wonder before deciding to cover the bird again. She headed back to her car, her thoughts of Sally finally set aside for the sake of wonderment.

9


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2d04

Chapter 2 (Draft 03)

Two weeks later, Sally heard an unfamiliar voice through the blankness. Somebody was calling her name.

_Daddy? Is that you?_

"How long has the oxygen been at the current level?"

"About three minutes."

"Okay… Give me the catheter again. She's still has some secretions here… got some tape stuck to the tube… hold on."

"You want me to deflate the cuff?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Sally! Wake up! Can you hear me? Sally… open your eyes."

For someone born in the open plains, obeying a command delivered with such ferocity was almost habitual. Sally's eyes immediately flew open, but what she saw confused her just as quickly. A nurse she had never seen before was glaring down at her like some angry lunatic looking to throttle her. The woman's nametag said, _Janet Baker, __Respiratory Therapist_. Sally tried to speak, but found that impossible.

"I'm going to pull your breathing tube. I want you to breathe in. Breath in, Sally!"

There was a heavy pressure against her chest once more and then her body was suddenly gasping for air. Like some foreign thing separate from her head, her tongue slammed against the roof of her mouth and stuck itself there. It was as dry as the time she fell face down, open mouthed, into the dustbowl between Stella and Shubert. She immediately tried to swallow; she that was impossible too.

"Let's give her some O-2."

"Water…" she tried to whisper.

"In a minute Mrs. Carmichael," the lunatic chided her. "Will you get her some ice chips?"

The old woman tried to raise her hands, but found them strapped down to the bedrails. That scared her more than her confusion.

"Untie her hands," Kari told Bea, who was now standing the other side of the bed.

"Sorry, Sally. Hospital policy when you're on the vent." Her hands were suddenly free.

"There you go, sweetie." Kari gently rubbed the woman's hands and checked for any sores on her wrists. "A little cream there… and there," she said softly.

She was handed a Styrofoam cup with a small mound of crushed ice that barely covered the bottom. The irony of the situation didn't go unnoticed as Kari watched her friend eagerly scooping at the ice. Here was a woman who only recently was begging to die

"Take it slow Mrs. Carmichael. Going too fast will only make you sick."

Sally ignored this advice. She dropped the plastic spoon and tipped the cup into her mouth. She was surprised at how sensitive her teeth were as she crunched down, and the sudden gush on the back of her throat made her gag.

"Told you."

"Easy, Sally. Take it slow now," Kari admonished her kindly. She tilted the woman's head to the side as she wheezed and coughed. Her throat felt angry and raw. "Let them dissolve in your mouth a little at a time; not so much all at once."

She was rolled straight again, her eyes still watering. She tried to speak, but found the parts necessary for doing the task unworkable. It would take another three weeks before she could whisper again.

"Hello, Sally. I'm Doctor Hoffman here at Mercy Center. Do you remember me?"

The woman stared up at the graying man, searching uncaringly through her memory before shaking her head.

"Well — that's all right. You're doing fine, very well in fact." He straightened to look at her chart again. She could see him nodding through the list of tests.

"Magnesium's still a little low, but definitely better than yesterday." He looked up again. "Mrs. Carmichael… you are certainly the most remarkable patient I think I've ever had in my care. I hope you will honor me someday with your secrets of longevity. You gave us quite a scare a while back, but you've recovered amazingly well."

Sally glanced over at Kari to deliver her practiced, _'Oh-lucky-me,'_ sulk. Kari smiled and then came forward.

"I guess it just means you still have some work to do, Sal," she said, smoothing the woman's blankets around her again. Sally looked incredulous.

"I'll get you some more ice."

Over the next few days, Kari told Sally about her cataleptic brush with death and Sally could only shudder. As it turned out, the reaper had come for her head after all. Her vitals had continued to spiral downward toward the inevitable end, despite the increased settings on her vent, and the heroic efforts put forth by the Mercy staff. In fact, the good and saving Doctor Hoffman even told her he had already decided to call her dead while still delivering the last few compressions to her chest. He had been bouncing her for a full ten minutes when he told himself that was it; she was done.

_I'll stop on the tenth compression: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sweet-sixteen — done!_ That's it, Sally Carmichael… you're outta-here; the big sleep, dead as a doornail, as dead as polka dot silk shirts. Just tell me where to send the daisies, honey, because… you're time is done.

But then, two full minutes later, one of the devices monitoring Sally's vitals suddenly decided to salute Doctor Hoffman's efforts and the old girl's crusty organ of a heart abruptly started beating again.

And it didn't come back as just some weak and indecisive putt-putt… wait… putt-putt… wait… _you'd better check my batteries,_ kind of restart either. Hell no. It was flat-line to ker-thump, ker-thump, ker-thump, ain't no freakin' dead people in here kind of rhythm that took every medical practitioner in the room back to the shock of their first autopsy.

Kari remembered Hoffman looking at the monitor in utter disbelief and then giving it a callous _get-the-hell-out-of-here _whack in the lights before pulling his stethoscope out to confirm the rumor. He listened into Sally's chest and then smiled. ker-thump, ker-thump, ker-thump.

"Well — I'll be damned!"

Kari couldn't stop herself from smiling that day, despite the expected dismay Sally would eventually display at God's decision to keep her earth-bond a little longer.

"Come on, Sally… have the courage to live. Come on… anyone can die."

To Kari, death was terrifying not because it was the great unknown — but because it was so ordinary; it happened all the time in the place where she worked. Living was the thing that took courage.

"Come on, Sally."

And so it was Sally Carmichael of Shubert Nebraska survived that day of death to live on.

A week after the vent was pushed out of the room, a piece of surgical piping was yanked out of the side of Sally's chest, and a second tube in her bladder was pulled without ceremony by the night shift. Three days later she was taken off of dialysis; blessed relief.

"There's nothing like the removal of needles from your groin to brighten your day," Kari told her afterwards.

With every day that passed Sally was starting to feel a little more alive, more like a real person again. Her first trip to the toilet was unforgettable.

"The things humans take for granted can't possibly be numbered, but taking a good pee on your own should never be one of them," Sally would say later as her throat began to heal.

Two more weeks passed and Sally was sitting up in bed and reading a favorite book when she first overheard the conversations about her being moved into a different part of the hospital. Kari Dietz wasn't having any of it, of course. Sally was her patient and she wasn't ready to give up her charge so easily.

Eventually, however, Sally was moved to the short-term care floor, and it was there she first began to hear the talk about her eventual release. If not for the fact that she was feeling so good, she would have been disappointed. Although she didn't necessarily like the hospital, she hated it less than her apartment in the city.

She had sold their suburban house in Seattle, the last meaningful act of defiance to her husband's memory, and moved to a tiny room within walking distance of the cemetery and Mary's grave. It was there, she expected, in that ugly apartment, in a state she never called home, that Sally Carmichael would live out the rest of her days. She would slowly fade from God's greater creations until that final moment when He released her from the burden the living called life.

The harassing old coot living next door was the one who called for help after her collapse. Determined to get himself laid one more time before checking himself into what Sam used to call, 'Satan's hotel for the _Hentai_', he _happened_ to peak in her window to see her lying on the floor. It was ironic that as the paramedics hastily stuffed Sally into the ambulance, she could remember feeling a sharp spike of giddiness about the whole ordeal. The doors were slammed and the siren wailed, and all the time Sally was smiling. She was thinking God had finally let off the hook. After a lifetime of manual labor, she had left a pile of unfolded laundry on her bed and a sink full of dirty dishes behind her. _Good! For once… let somebody else clean up after me._

"You know… there's a lot of talk in the hallway about releasing you, Sally," Kari told her the next day. Sally's friend came to the side of her bed with a tray of food and a smile.

Sally smiled back and then grabbed up the writing board and marker on the table next to her. She wrote: '_Tell them my hearing has improved too. They're saying Friday?'_

Kari was somewhat startled at seeing the note, but smiled back anyway.

"Yep… or Monday, depending on your last test results. You ready to go home?"

Sally frowned as she wrote back. '_Sounds like they're looking forward to getting rid of me.'_

"Well… people who aren't sick are of no use to the buzzards in this place."

Sally wrote and turned the board around to show her. '_Why do you think?'_

"Why do I think what, Sal?"

'_Why do you think… I'm still alive?' _she added.

Kari's face fell. She reached back to take a chair from behind the door and slid it next to Sally's bed.

"I suppose it just wasn't your time, honey."

The old woman rolled her eyes.

"No… I mean it, Sal. Maybe there's something more you have to do. Surely — you can think of something you would like to do now that you have another chance. Places you'd like to visit, people you'd like to see again?"

'_Nope'_

"Nothing?"

Sally underlined the message again.

"Well… I'm sure you'll find there is something, and now you have the time to… what?"

Sally was shaking her head as she wrote. _'Has anybody else died since the day I almost died?'_

Kari frowned. "What do you mean? You mean here at Mercy?"

'_Anywhere.'_

Kari was startled again. "Well, of course, Sally. That was weeks ago."

'_Are you sure?'_

Kari suddenly looked worried. "Yes, I'm sure. There was a kid who died from a motorcycle accident just last night: Serious head trauma. Sally… why are you asking me… what's the matter?"

Sally let the board drop to her lap as her head fell into her pillow. She was thinking about what her father had told her in her dream.

"_W__e're full up here right now. You'll have to go back until there's room again."_

Sally heaved reproachfully. It was all just a dream, nothing more than an oxygen-starved brain trying to make sense out of the process of dying. _If there was no room left in heaven… then why are people still dying?_

"Sal? Are you okay?"

Sally looked up, forced a smile and then shrugged. She pulled her board over again and wrote, _'See any red X on me yet?' _Sally smirked as she showed her the message.

Kari never regretted telling Sally about her fall from grace in the eyes of Nurse Ratchet. She always found Sally's wisdom and sympathy nurturing… something she knew was missing in the relationship with her own mother. Other than her councilors at Mercy, Sally was the only other person she had ever told about those bloody death marks.

Kari looked again at the _'X'_ on Sally's board and grinned. "Never on you, Sal. Not once."

The Monday that followed found Sally sitting in an uncomfortable chair next to what was supposed to be her deathbed. Although she never doubted she would he sitting where she now was, she had always envisioned her state a little less corporeal and much wiser about God's greater plan. She did not expect this: to be breathing at ease and staring stupidly at all the monitors now sitting quietly in the dark around a freshly made bed. What the hell was she still doing here?_ Why am I still alive?_

"Okay, Sal, ready to go?" Kari entered the room pushing a wheelchair.

Sally frowned as she pushed herself up to stand. "I can walk," she whispered in a raspy voice, clutching her purse with her other hand.

Kari was surprised at Sally's strength. "Yeah, I know, but it's hospital policy to wheel you out. Insurance buzzards would have a fit otherwise."

Sally grinned as her friend rolled forward. That's what she always liked about Kari Dietz; her brutal honesty was very refreshing.

She sat in the chair and watched as Kari adjusted her feet on the plates in front. She returned to the back and spun Sally around to the open door.

"And… we're out of here. I'm taking you over to the pharmacy first so we can get your scripts filled, and I have a taxi scheduled for pick up out front in thirty minutes. Should be all set."

Half an hour later, Kari was still standing behind Sally's wheelchair waiting for the cab outside the hospital. The weather was cold and drizzling and reminded Sally again why she hated Seattle so much.

"This one is for pain," Kari continued to explain, pulling out a third bottle of pills from a white paper sack. "Take two of these as necessary up to three times a day. Try to space them out if you can." She reached into the bag again. "Oh… and this one's for nausea…"

"I never thanked you for staying with me, Kari," Sally interrupted her unexpectedly.

Kari looked up. "What?"

Sally reached out to take her friend's hand. "You were very kind to me through all of this, honey; a real blessing. I know you don't get to hear this very much considering where they've put you to work, but you should know it's true. You gave me every comfort during what should have been my last days, and I can't thank you enough for your kindness."

There were tears leaking from Kari's eyes as she reached down to hug the old woman.

"You're the blessing in this place, Sal. More than you could ever know."

There was a quick honk behind them and a driver in a yellow cab was looking at them.

"Cab for Carmichael?" The man said, hopefully.

"That's us," Kari answered back. Sally was already on her feet again.

"Here's your meds, Sal. Call me tonight to let me know how you're settling in and especially if you have any questions about all these pills." She handled the driver a plastic bag with the rest of Sally's belongings.

Sally got into the back without another word or any sign of pain.

"Take her to the Morning Star Towers on Green Tree Drive," Kari told the driver before slipping the man forty dollars. "See that she gets through the front door."

"Yes Ma'am, I will."

After closing Sally's door, the driver entered the vehicle again cursing the rain under his breath and dropped the car into gear. Sally turned to wave at Kari before kissing her hand and placing it on the rain-soaked window.

Kari smiled and waved back as she watched the cab turn into Main Street and fall out of site.

Another cabby quickly pulled in to fill open space and an elderly man was struggling to get out. Kari rushed forward to help him as the driver stuck his head out the window.

"He seemed okay when he got in, but now he says his chest hurts!"

Kari sat the man down in Sally's empty chair and then moved to the front to place his feet.

"My… heart…" the man wheezed, still clutching the front of his chest. "I think it's my heart."

Kari looked into the man's grimacing face over his knees. He looked pale and he was sweating liberally even as the cold rain continued to pour down.

"How long have you been having this pain?" Kari asked him, ignoring the bright red 'X' on the man's wrinkled brow as he fisted the front of his shirt.

"A little… his morning… but nothing like this…"

Kari lifted the brakes and quickly wheeled the man inside.

15


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3d03

Chapter 3 (Draft 03)

Sally entered her apartment thirty minutes later, trying to make a mental note.

"I owe Kari thirty two dollars, the little taxi brat."

She closed the door behind her, threw the bolt, and slid the chain. She heaved a heavy sigh before setting her purse down on the small table next to the knob.

"Bless that child's heart," she added with a grin, still thinking about her friend.

She headed for the kitchen and set her bags down on the kitchen table. The pills inside rattled annoyingly.

She looked up and groaned. "So much for God letting me off the hook," she said, looking scathingly over at the flies buzzing around a sink full of month old dirty dishes. She heaved another bored sigh, rolled up her sleeves, and headed for the sink.

"Radio news time, eight-thirty four PM. Weather forecast: Rain ending tonight, sixty-five percent chance of showers Tuesday afternoon and into the evening."

Sally looked up from the small pile of mail she was probing to glance over at the clock on her nightstand. She frowned. The radio was right.

"Past eight-thirty." She looked up at her dresser across the room to think. She wasn't tired at all. Strange: she was always too tired to stand by eight. The ringing phone startled her.

"Hello?"

"Sally?"

"Yes?"

"Hi. It's Kari, Sal. How are you doing?"

"Oh, hello sweetheart. I'm fine. All tucked in and ready for bed."

"Good — good. Any pain? Did you take your meds?"

Sally frowned. Her pills were still in their bag on the kitchen table. "Ah, no… I didn't, but I don't have any pain, dear." There was a pause.

"Are you sure? No pain anywhere?"

"No… in fact…" Sally took a quick inventory of her body. "I think I'm feeling pretty good."

"Oh… okay. Well… that's excellent, right?"

"I think so."

"What about the nausea?"

"No… nothing there."

"Hmmm… you're still amazing us over here, Sal, but you have to take the other meds in the morning, okay? The supplements and the rest?"

"Always fussing over me, you. All right dear, I will."

"Promise?"

"I'm not in the habit of lying to people, Kari."

"I know that. I just want to make sure you remember."

"And for that, I thank you. When will I see you again?"

"I was hoping to stop by tomorrow before work. Will that be okay?"

"Wonderful. I look forward to it."

"Okay, it's a date. I'll bring the coffee."

"You will not. You'll be my guest for a change."

Kari giggled. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right, dear. Thank you for calling. Good bye."

Somebody was knocking on her door before Sally hung up the phone.

"Oh dear. Now what?"

She got up, slipped on her flannel robe, and got to the door by the third round of knuckled clunks. She looked through the peephole and groaned.

_Oh God. Now what does he want_? Sally thought. She opened the door but left the chain in its slide.

"You're home!"

"Hello, Mr. Hirch. What can I do for you?"

"Please, my dear lady, I keep telling you… call me George. I didn't realize you were coming home today."

"Yes, I was released from the hospital just a few hours ago. As you can imagine, I'm very tired…"

"I called the hospital two weeks ago and told them to contact me when they were planning to release you. I could have picked you up and brought you home."

"That really wasn't necessary, but thank you anyway. Well… goodnight then." She started to close the door.

"Oh, all right… yes… good night." The man looked very disappointed.

The door was almost closed when Sally remembered something. She was going to hate herself for doing this but manners always had their place. She cracked the door a little again.

"Mr. Hirch?" The man spun around and his face immediately brightened.

"Yes?"

"I should have thanked you for calling the ambulance for me that day. That was very neighborly of you. Thank you, Mr. Hirch."

The man leaned in close to the opening. "You're very welcome. Are you sure you're not up for a caring visitor?"

"I… really am tired, Mr. Hirch. Maybe another time."

"I'll hold you to it!" the man said happily.

Sally closed the door and spun the bolt. As she headed back to bed, she suddenly felt very tired.

"Horny old skunk. When's he going to give it up?"

One thousand miles away, a car with a single occupant pulled up to an iron gate and stopped. A hand lit by the light of a very full moon reached out to press the intercom button.

"Yes, who is it?" a voice answered back in an eastern accent.

"Doctor Gladwin Howard. I'm here to see Mr. Bezuhov?"

"Thank you for coming, doctor." The gate in front of the car began to open. "Pull up directly to the front of the house and I'll meet you at the front door."

The car rolled forward and up the winding road lined with olive trees. There were no lamps to light his way, so the visitor moved slowly as he turned left and right up the grade.

"Oh my God!"

The man slammed on the brakes and screeched to a quick stop. Another man was standing in the middle of the road with what looked like a small machine gun strapped to his shoulder. He was shielding his eyes and squinting at the car's headlights, but motioned the doctor to continue on. Turning the wheel sharply, the driver cautiously moved ahead and watched as the man disappeared into the darkness in his rearview mirror.

"For Christ's sake, he was carrying a gun! What is this place… and how do I get the hell out of here?" A second man suddenly appeared in his path again. "Jesus!" Howard hit the brakes once more. Although the machine gun on the second man wasn't in plain sight, he could clearly see the strap across his shoulder and chest. With a sharp-jerking gesture, the man motioned the car to move on.

Back and forth, the car moved along the winding road and up the hill, following the directions of several more sentinels around every other turn. Finally, a large mansion loomed into view before him and the man in the car immediately thought of the Whitehouse when he took his family to visit Washington DC on their last vacation. The front was lit with spotlights, which gave the white façade a fake, almost virtual glow to it. As his headlights bathed the entranceway, the doctor could see several more men scurrying quickly to get out of sight. They looked like roaches trying to escape into their cracks and hidey-holes. A large marble fountain sat in the drive's center, its cascading water looked ridiculously gaudy as the man pulled around to finally park at the base of the ascending steps.

The doctor shut off the engine and peered watchfully through the window at his surroundings. Nobody was in sight. Deciding that if he turned around and tried to leave, the men on the road would undoubtedly stop him; the visitor warily got out. The reflecting green light from the fountain threw his mind back to his first college bonfire as one of the double doors at the top of the steps to the house suddenly opened.

"Doctor Howard, thank you for coming. Leave your keys in your car. "

The doctor was surprised that the man's voice so closely matched the voice he had heard on the intercom. Whoever Mr. Bezuhov was, he spared no expense for even the most trivial devices in his service. Howard opened the car door again and threw his keys onto the seat. As he mounted the steps, he caught himself counting them one by one as they rose between the massive white columns framing the wooden doors. Even if he tried to make a run for it two steps at a time, it would take at least ten seconds to get back to his vehicle. He was almost at the top when he heard his car's engine start again. He looked back and watched his white Volvo pulling away; so much for his escape.

"Doctor Howard, your reputation and status herald your arrival. It is an honor to finally meet you."

The man at the door looked much bigger now that Howard was standing in front of him face to face. He was a full six inches taller and his perfect suit did not hide a frame with nearly zero body fat stuffed within. His English was impeccable even though his accent clearly gave away the fact it was not his mother's tongue.

"My reputation?" Howard replied unthinkingly.

The man smiled to reveal his newly straightened but badly tarnished teeth and stuck out his hand. The doctor shook it and could feel the calloused bumps scraping against his flesh as they pulled apart. He was directed inside a massive entry foyer that looked much too dark for its obvious stateliness.

"Can I take your hat and coat, doctor? You may keep the bag."

The doctor was startled. It never occurred to him that he might not be allowed to carry his medical bag with him. He quickly removed his coat and hat and handed them over to the muscled man.

"If you would like to remove your jacket, I can take that too, if you like," his host offered him.

Howard looked around and into the darkest places across the room. "It's rather cold in here."

The man nodded. "Very well; your comfort during your visit, Doctor Howard, is paramount."

Howard could see the man examining his fedora; it was his charcoal gray favorite that went with his navy suit. He watched the man run his fingers appreciatively over the fine felt before carefully setting it on a shelf above his now hanging coat. He closed the hidden closet and the doctor stared wondering at how the door might be opened again.

"Follow me, doctor. Mr. Bezuhov is waiting for you in his bedroom. It's just up these stairs."

Once again, Howard was unconsciously counting the steps up the spiral staircase, and he couldn't help noticing the quality of the wood that made up its railings. It was wonderfully thin, almost delicate. As he slid his left hand up its smooth, white surface, he tried to push outward against the curve. It wouldn't budge. _Impressive_.

They finally reached the top and there in the hallway stood several men who most certainly were part of the group scurrying out of his lights on the grounds outside. This time, however, they weren't even trying to hide the armory they were carrying. Getting this close to their boss allowed them the opportunity to show their strength and numbers. They were clearly here to make a statement.

"Through here, doctor."

The muscled man motioned him through a door to the side of the dark hallway. Inside was another armed man and an appliance Howard immediately recognized. It was one of those airport x-ray machines complete with walk-through metal detector.

"They would like to scan your bag, sir."

"Oh… no problem," Howard replied openly, handing his bag to the other man.

Once again, the doctor was impressed with the careful manner in which his guide chose his words. '_They_ would like to scan your bag' was entirely different than '_we_ would like to scan your bag'. The distinction was meant to convey the feeling that his escort was on his side, a friend sent to steer him on his journey through this labyrinth of untrusting gargoyles.

"You don't have to remove your shoes, sir," his escort said smiling, as Howard reached for his waxed laces.

After close examination of his bag and person, the two men reentered the hallway again through a second door and turned right. They turned left at the bend and finally arrived at another set of double doors flanked by two very big guards. One of the men slid his gun around to his back before turning to knock gently one time. He then opened the door to the approaching visitors. Howard could hear his escort whisper something that sounded like Russian to the guard as they passed him.

Once again, the space inside was very dark, lit only by the electrified candles set randomly but with practiced design throughout the room. Another man came forward carrying a brown, pleated folder with an elastic wrap. He was wearing what looked like a black lab coat and a stethoscope. Howard was still looking at the man's strange attire when he was handed the folder.

"Doctor Gladwin Ailwin Howard. Welcome," came a voice from across the room.

Howard looked up at his escort who was motioning him forward toward a hearth where a quiet fire burned low, looking almost too frightened to bring forth the heat necessary to warm the immense space. Two winged backed chairs sat facing the fire with a braided rug between them.

The doctor came forward to find a very old man, looking frail and crumpled in the folds of the chair containing him. The man was almost colorless under his oxygen mask, and Howard unconsciously moved forward to check his pulse. _Always a doctor without caution_ is what his wife always told him. The old man rattled as he breathed, but his eyes were a sparkling blue and followed the lines of his mouth as he smiled.

"You won't like what you find, doctor," the old man said knowingly.

"I'd like to check your blood pressure, if you don't mind," Howard asked him.

"By all means; whatever you wish. You will find every test result imaginable in that folder my doctors have put together in expectation of your arrival tonight. Do your good doctor-deed and then sit. I'd like you to review my file and share your opinion."

Howard immediately opened his bag to remove a cuff and stethoscope. He quickly wrapped the man's arm and began inflating. The doctor listened to the heartbeats as he watched the needle slowly drop down. Concerned about the old man's appearance, he wanted an accurate reading. The man watched him as he worked, entertained by the simple processes unchanged in more than a hundred years of practiced medicine. The doctor pumped up the cuff again to confirm his first count.

"Is this why you asked me to come here?" the doctor asked the old man, this time he was counting with his eyes closed. "To read over your medical records?"

"Not entirely; we do have other matters to discuss," the man replied. "But since it's so rare for a doctor to make a house call in this country, I thought I'd let you show me the value of your presence."

The cuff hissed loudly as the doctor released the pressure.

"Not too bad. Ninety over sixty," the doctor reported, as he ripped open the Velcro under the man's arm.

"One of my better days, I should think, and I'm glad you could come on a good day. It'll make our discussions much easier. Please… make yourself comfortable." He motioned to the chair next to him with a gnarled and badly arthritic finger.

The doctor sat and opened the file given to him.

"Earl Gray?"

"Yes, thank you."

The old man gave a wave and a cup of tea was immediate set on the table next to the doctor.

"Thanks," the doctor said unconsciously to the hand retreating back into the darkness. He was already on the second medical report within the folder, and the old man smiled as he watched his manner of study.

An hour later, Doctor Howard removed his glasses and fell back. He had already removed his jacket fifteen minutes into his assessment.

"A very complete medical workup, Mr. Bezuhov."

"The best money could buy, I assure you," the old man answered back.

Howard looked around and refocused his eyes on the opulence residing within the room. "Yes… I have no doubt."

The old man chuckled and then coughed. "And… your conclusions?"

Howard looked again at the pile of paper and stapled reports he had left haphazardly on the table next to him. He watched the other doctor in black slowly working to put them back in order within their container. He looked at the old man and shrugged.

"Nothing you don't already know, Mr. Bezuhov. You are a very old man, and… you're dying."

His host laughed again and then started to cough badly. The other doctor wordlessly moved toward him, but was waved off by the gnarled hand again.

After he had recovered, "You are indeed very brash and forthright. My reports on you warned me about this flaw in your character."

"Reports? You've had people investigating me?"

"Oh yes, quite a few in fact. Enough to pay your salary three times over, I should think."

Howard was stunned. "Why? What's so important about me that you should care about my opinion? Surely, you have the best doctors in the world to assist you. Why would my examination of your case mean anything?"

"It is not your medical opinion I seek, Doctor Howard. As you say, I have an army of doctors far superior in skill and talent than yourself that see to my needs as they exist today. No… it is your work I desire, not your opinion of my medical history."

"My… my work? I don't understand."

The old man's eyes twinkled in the fire. "I find your work at the university on healthy-aging quite intriguing."

Doctor Howard frowned.

"I am very close to your mentor on the subject, Doctor Wetzler."

Howard's expression fell; it looked grieving. "I'm very sorry to tell you this… but… Doctor Wetzler died two weeks ago; a traffic accident."

"And you would be next in line for Wetzler's job, or so I'm told."

Howard was stunned again. "I… ah… I wouldn't say that. The trustees have not made any decisions on his replacement."

"Oh… but now I am disappointed, doctor. This modesty does not fit the forthright, straightforwardness I had come to expect from you."

Howard scowled back at the old man. "If I've disappointed you by not publicly crowing my abilities for the sake of taking my best friend's job, I have to say I'm not hurt about that," he replied angrily. "I'm not that ambitious."

"Ah… but you _do_ like the finer things in life. I think you proved that with the purchase of your new boat last week. Are you sure you're not… expectant of the promotion?"

"I… don't think a boat says anything about…"

The gnarled old hand waved him off. "There is nothing whatsoever wrong with wanting nice things, doctor. After all… you work very hard. Setting aside whatever modesty you _think_ you might have, you are a leader in your field. An expert on the aging process in that healthy aging research center you work. You desire nice things and comforts… the best for your family, who complain far too much about the lack of time shared with them."

Anger flushed Howard's face. "I beg your pardon? Have you also researched the members of my family?"

The old man cocked his head. "You didn't think all the money I spent was on you alone, did you?" He chuckled. "Your life has been impressive, doctor, but it lacks anything requiring a deep dive into your past. Your daughter Julie is at Princeton, but Janice's academic prowess at Brown has shown itself to be outstanding." He leaned back to settle himself into his chair again. "And then there's Benjamin. I should think he'll turn down Juilliard if Eastman accepts him."

"My… God," Howard whispered aloud. He was unable to stop himself.

His host was waving off his startled reaction. "Not to worry, doctor. Young Benny _will_ receive his letter of acceptance by the twentieth. You may set his mind at ease. His audition tape was outstanding, but I should think a young man with dreams of glory would be better suited in New York City rather than Rochester."

A loud pop from the fire gave the old man a moment of pause.

"I like you, Doctor Howard. You're old school. From your hard-nosed work ethic right down to that gray fedora you wore into my home tonight. Nobody wears hats anymore, doctor. Especially of the quality you buy at that shop on Park Avenue. But the psychologists I hired to review your file tell me your greatest wish is to stand apart from your peers. You've been waiting a very long time for the opportunity to shine, doctor, and with the untimely death of my friend Wetzler you will now get that opportunity. Forgive me, but your ambitions… _are_ rather obvious."

Howard was worried. He hadn't expected any of this. Thinking back, he marveled at how something this complex could have started so… simply. He had taken a call from the President of the university, who up to that moment had never spoken to him directly. That was when he was told about this man, a huge contributor to the research under John Wetzler. The President said there was to be a meeting with Bezuhov tonight and that Howard was to take his medical kit to do a physical examination. Most importantly, he was told the funding for Wetzler's research was clearly at risk now that John was gone, and the university was counting on him to insure the financial support given by Bezuhov continued. His parting words to him were simple and direct: "Do whatever it takes to instill the confidence necessary to keep the money coming in, Howard. Without it, thirty eight people will lose their jobs."

Now he finds he's been secretly investigated, his family explored, physiological profiles completed; all by a man nearing the end of his life, who's only interest seems to lie in his work on aging.

"Who are you, Mr. Bezuhov? And what do you want really from me?"

"Who am I? Well… I am glad to see your predecessor obeyed the only demand I made of him in all the years of financial support given to his team of researchers. Who am I? You said it yourself: I am a very old man about to die a natural death. But, like yourself, and as you can plainly see from the way I live," he motioned to the furnishings around them, "I too like the finer things in life. The problem is… I have already lived a very long time, one hundred and three years next month, to be exact. And like you, doctor, I have worked very, very hard to acquire the wealth I have today, to be one of the richest men in the world." The old man started coughing again.

After he recovered, "It is a sad truth that men have to work hard in life to find solace and ease, and their only reward is to die in their comfortable bed. What recompense is that?"

"But it _is_ our mortality that defines us," Howard answer him.

"Ah… accurately read from that placard you keep on your office wall." The old man smiled again. "If you truly believe that… that mortality _is_ a part of our definition, a finite component of our distinctness as human beings… then, doctor, we shall part tonight and never speak again. And the ample funding I give to your university will go to another team with greater ambition.

"No, Doctor Howard, mortality does not define me, and despite the lie of purpose behind your own ambitions, you should know that I have greater aspirations for the both of us.

"I have worked a lifetime to acquire the wealth that keeps your university projects in the black, doctor. You are looking for the ways that I may extend my life. Surely, you would not find fault with an old man wanting to live longer still; not after all the work I've put into living."

Howard looked incredulous. "Am I to understand then, that you have been funding our research on aging with the hope of benefiting directly from that work?"

"Yes… benefiting directly… and it has been agreed that I should be the first recipient of your research."

"But… that's highly unethical! You can't expect…"

"What can't I expect, doctor? Can I not expect to get what was promised to me by your predecessor? Although our friend Doctor Wetzler died tragically, and far too early, he did die a very comfortable man thanks to my generosity. I am willing to do the same for you, Doctor Howard. My contract with your mentor will now be extended to you, his most trusted peer. I too believe Wetzler's trust and confidence in you was well placed. We spoke about it several times. You are, by every measure, the right man for the job; the best man to finish his research and find a cure for aging."

"But it could be years before we enter human trials, certainly too late to be of any significant help to somebody in your position. And besides, even if we were successful, why would you want to continue living this way — an old man always on the verge of dying? What kind of existence is that?"

"Ah — now there's that forthright manner I was expecting out of you, doctor; very good. However, what your timeline lacks is the scope of my agreement with Doctor Wetzler. While he earned every penny that I paid him for his research, it was what I had waiting for him after his success that mattered more." The old man smiled again. "One hundred million dollars… in cash."

Howard was startled.

"Just think of the people you could help with that kind of money… Doctor Howard."

"All that money… just to keep you alive? Just to keep you… like this?"

"Don't be silly; of course not. I'm not looking to you to stop the aging process, doctor, I'm looking… for its reversal."

Howard was stunned again. "But… that's not even in our line of site. You cannot expect, even in my lifetime, for us to find…"

The old man raised his hand to stop him again. "Doctor, I'm afraid Wetzler did not share all of his data with you. The fact is… he was quite successful in his research on many levels that I am sure, and by my insistence, that you were purposely made unaware."

"What?" Howard was shocked again. "I… find that hard to believe. That Sam… that Doctor Wetzler wouldn't tell me…?"

"Wouldn't tell you about his experiments with sermorelin?"

Howard's jaw dropped and then closed immediately. He suddenly smiled and shook his head. "I don't know what Sam's been telling you, Mr. Bezuhov, but the growth hormone Sermorelin…"

"Is a somatotroph," the old man interrupted, "a receptor specific secretagogue that has been shown to be very effective in promoting pituitary gland recrudescence in older animals."

Howard was still smiling. "Yes, it restores pituitary reserve of hGH. So what?"

Now the old man was grinning too. "You disappoint me, doctor. High doses of sermorelin have shown to be as effective as hGH in restoring some youthful properties in the aged."

"But, you don't understand, the costs of such a therapy would be…"

"WOULD BE WHAT?" The old man snapped back. "Prohibitive? To whom? Certainly not to me!"

Howard was speechless. Bezuhov looked like a man suddenly able to leap from his chair and physically throttle him, but he started coughing again. He settled himself back in his chair, clutching is oxygen mask, and his doctor was by his side whispering into his ear. The gnarled hand slapped him gently on the chin and the doctor moved away without another word.

Howard's comprehension was moving fast. "Have you been taking sermorelin?"

The man took another deep breath from his mask and then moved it aside. "Under the watchful care of John Wetzler, yes," he replied, his blue eyes were probing Howard eagerly for his reaction to this news.

Howard was staggered. _I don't believe this_, he thought. He stood and moved to lean against the fire's mantel to think. After another minute, he returned to his chair and sat down. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His best friend had been experimenting on a patient outside the university. It was absurd. It was unethical. It couldn't be true.

"You asked me what I wanted from you, Doctor Howard." The old man leaned forward. "I want nothing less than your wildest dreams… and every one of your deepest ambitions. I crave them; and not just for myself, but for all of humanity." He fell back again.

"You see… while I have been greatly successful in my life's work, it has come at the expense of my soul, I should think. I am Russian, and even before openness came to my country I was a very powerful and rich man. Glasnost was meant to end corruption at the top of the Communist Party and the Soviet government, but in fact it only opened the doors to… how do you Americans like to say it? _More of the same_." He looked away to stare into the darkness across the room.

"In my old age, I am haunted by the ghosts of those whose lives ended early by my ambitions."

Howard quietly listened to the old man, feeling more like a priest than the physician he thought himself to be. Bezuhov looked back at him.

"Finish Wetzler's work, doctor. Find the cure for this disease we know as… aging death. Take the position your university president will call to offer you tomorrow morning. I will triple your current salary and make ready the reward we discussed upon your success. Allow an old man to make up for the sins of his life, and give to all men the ultimate gift that up to now they only dared to request from God. Find Wetzler's cure."

Finally there was silence, and Howard stared at the old man as something completely new before turning to the fire to probe his own deepest desires. He finally looked up.

"But sermorelin…" he started to say.

"Wetzler's research has found several more hormones of much greater promise than sermorelin, doctor. Would you like me to share them with you?"

Howard's stare returned to the fire once again. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. His best friend he thought he know so well had done so much without his knowledge. He thought Sam to be of the highest moral character. Was his friend wrong to pursue what man has undoubtedly been seeking for the last ten thousand years? All of his work, of Sam's work, and the work of every other doctor in the world were meant to bring comfort and the greatest longevity to man here on earth. Isn't this what they were really striving for? Comfort, peace and longevity, but the ultimate goal was simply life.

He looked again at the old man and then stood. "I'll need to think about all of this. Can I call you tomorrow with my answer?"

Bezuhov studied him. "You do not _call me_, doctor. You will be informed when we need to speak. If you accept your president's offer tomorrow morning, then I shall have my answer. Good night. My doctor will show you the way out."

Howard made his way back to the door, and as he opened it wide to leave the old man spoke out again.

"And… doctor?"

Howard turned.

"If you do not accept the position tomorrow, you already know I will end my support of your university and your facility." He turned in his chair to look back at him from across the room. "But if you ever speak to anyone about our discussions tonight, you _will_ regret that decision more."

A heavy hand suddenly slammed its steal-like grip onto his shoulder and Howard gasped. He looked around to find his muscled escort standing there with a look of terrifying menace etched upon his face. Howard looked back at the chair near the fire again but the old man was out of sight. His escort shoved his fedora roughly into his chest and handed him his coat.

Howard was lead out of the house where he found his Volvo running and waiting for him outside. As he drove down the hill through the winding trees, he never saw any armed guards. He could only imagine them peering out from between the dark trees and watching him as he finally passed through the open gate. He turned right and never looked back. He would be up all night contemplating his options, but in the end… Doctor Gladwin Howard accepted the job offered to him the next day.

26


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4d02

Chapter 4 (Draft 02)

Two weeks later, Sally was marveling at the cloudless, blue day and her own perfect reflection the unhampered sun delivered to a stack of perfect red apples. She looked around suspiciously; something was different about her favorite fruit stand. She wasn't exactly sure what it was, but Sally was enjoying the moment trying to figure it out.

"Hello Mrs. Carmichael, what can I get you today?" said a young man still tying his morning apron.

"Hello, Ronny. I don't know; everything looks so good." She looked around again before turning to him. "Okay… I give up, what's changed?"

The teenager frowned. "Changed? What do you mean?

Something's different. Everything looks brand new." She looked at him and smiled. "What is it, what did you do?"

The boy also looked around. "We haven't changed anything, Mrs. Carmichael." He smiled at her. "Maybe it's because you haven't been around in a while. I heard you were in the hospital, is everything all right?"

The boy's father was suddenly by his side.

"And look at this. Look at who's finally come back to see us?" The man reached out and gathered Sally's tiny body into his gentle embrace. "Miss. Sally — it's very good to see you again."

"Hello Mario. I wanted to thank you and Mary for the nice get well card."

The man smiled warmly. "My Mary was at Mass every single day while you were in that hospital, Sal. That woman was wearing her knees out praying for your good health."

Sally smiled. "Mary is a Saint." She moved her purse out of the way to look down. "And as you can plainly see, her prayers worked."

The man smiled and cocked his head to evaluate her. "You really do look great, Sal. I gotta say — those doctors took ten years off you."

Sally picked up one of the cantaloupes and breathed its deep fragrance. The wonderful smell went straight to the back of her head like some new path just discovered and ignited every sensory partition the old woman still had left in her body. Her knees almost buckled from the ecstasy of it. She opened her eyes and was embarrassed to find the man and his son still looking at her. She blushed as she returned the melon.

"You're exaggerating again, Mario, but thank you for saying it." She tapped the melon next to it. "Everything looks so good today." She looked hopefully again at Ronny. "If I buy a little extra can I ask you to deliver them to my apartment again?"

The young man smiled. "Of course, Mrs. Carmichael. I'll be glad to."

"Will you look at this?" Mario whispered, pointing at another man inspecting a stack of grannies. "This _Jamook_ spends ten minutes every morning taking up valuable space in front of my cart… and for what? One lousy apple. Every day — the same thing, one apple — _Madonn_!"

"What's it going to be today, mister?" Mario yelled out to the man. "_As if I didn't know_," he whispered back to Sally. She smiled.

"Look, mister… what's the matter with you? Every day… one apple. My family should starve waiting for you," Mario said, gesturing toward the heavens in exaggerated frustration.

"Look at this woman," he continued, motioning both hands back to Sally. "She's my best customer, ninety three years old and she moves around this neighborhood faster than these kids on their skateboards. You? One apple — Bah!"

He pointed at Sally again. "Look at her, she's beautiful, no? Take two apples today and pray you live half as long as our beautiful Sal here."

"Mario!" Sally said, blushing. "You're being rude to a customer; you should be ashamed of yourself!"

"Oh… is that what he is… a customer?" He leaned in to casually whisper. "_Mortadella_… he's a loser. How-my-gonna pay for Ronny's college on one apple a day, huh? I ask you."

The man standing at the cart smiled. He looked at Sally appraisingly and then back to the applecart where he promptly withdrew two from the stack.

"There you go," Mario said with a huge smile. "Very good! Now you come back tomorrow and get two more apples and double your life, eh? The customer reached into his pocket and paid Ronny for the apples and then turned to Sally before leaving.

"He's right, you know. You are _very_ beautiful." He looked at the cantaloupes next to her. "Maybe I'll try melon tomorrow." Sally blushed again as he continued down the sidewalk, eating one of his apples. She could still smell his cologne as he disappeared around the corner. Sally looked back at Mario who was muttering under his breath as he restacked his grannies to fill in the gaps.

"Mario, I'm going to tell Mary you were rude to that man," she warned him coyly. Mario raised his hands in surrender and then wiped them on his apron to smile.

"He's a smart man. He takes one look at your pretty face and sees how ridiculous he is with his one apple." Another customer called out to him. "Excuse me, Sal."

Sally walked with Ronny until her box was half full and then paid the boy.

"I'm going for a walk, but I'll be home in about an hour. Can you deliver the box then?" The boy, thinking of Sally's generous tips, agreed.

Left alone to wait for her change, it suddenly dawned on Sally what was different about Mario's stand that day. It was brighter. Sally frowned. Maybe it was the lack of rain and the depressing ambiance it always threw upon the city, turning everything into a colorless shade of gray, but the difference today was more than startling. The colors were so bright nearly everything around her seemed to glow in contrast to the norm. Every texture was detailed, everything sitting in the carts before her was so much more delectable than what she remembered before going to the hospital.

And then there was the smell: the sweetness, the blending of so many things mixing themselves together. It was a soup of wonderful, almost intoxicating bliss.

Sally collected her change and turned to leave. As she began to stroll along she knew she was going to enjoy her walk like never before that day.

She continued down the street until she paused at the local flower shop. Once again, the colors of the budding flora seemed to leap happily into her eyes. And the fragrances; they were more than intoxicating; they were nearly orgasmic. She carefully lifted a small bundle of daisies from a water filled bucket and marveled at every detail she found in the pedals, but frowned at the flaw she noticed in their center. The clustered brown mass in the middle of the pedals wasn't nearly as detailed as the rest. She squinted hard and saw it improve. She removed her glasses and then looked again; perfection. She put her glasses back on and then looked over and under the top of the frames to scrutinize the difference. _Definitely better without_, she thought to herself. She removed the glasses again and stowed them in her purse. Looking around, she was startled again at the clarity and texture of the simplest things around her. This time she frowned. Ronny was right. The only thing that had apparently changed… was her. She slowly turned to look around her again. She could see so much better without her glasses. The scene reminded her of the testimonials she saw on television, where people were describing their improved eyesight after some kind of laser surgery. 'Just call us and let me give your sight back to you,' some doctor in a white smock had said exaggeratedly. She remembered thinking Mario had nothing on this guy.

Sally noticed the birds were singing loud enough to make her think they were nesting on her Naples hat, but when she looked up there wasn't a bird anywhere in sight. A honking car splashed water onto the nearby sidewalk and she could hear its suspension creaking as it bounced along to pass her. Her hearing had apparently improved as well.

She turned again and continued her walk until she came upon her favorite bakery and Sally truly thought she was going to pass out from the wonderful smells hitting her full in the face. If asked at that moment, she was sure she could list every ingredient used in the baker's recipes. The flower, the yeast, the grains, the caraway seeds, the fermenting dough, the bananas, the cinnamon, the matzoh, the wholesomeness of rye mixed with pumpkin, even the sour cultures were reaching out to her to be counted. Every smell was there as surely as if she was kneading the dough herself.

Sally came forward to look into the window. There was a short line, but she dare not go inside. She knew beyond any doubt that she would surely pass out from the smell if she allowed it to hit her brain directly without the glass between them to protect her. She glanced over to watch Tommy Guadalgna, the store's owner and its master baker, tearing a loaf of white bread open with dried tomatoes and basil to show one of his customers. Sally could see the man listening to Tommy's speech about the lack of yeast in his breads and how that fact made his product better than all the rest. Now she could hear Tommy's voice coming through the glass.

"There's no hurry up in my store and that's the only thing all this over-yeasting is doing for you – it makes bread faster. That saves time, but it cuts out the texture, the flavor, and the shelf life. You'll see," the baker promised the man.

_You tell him, Tommy_.

"Wrap it up," the man replied, and Sally smiled before turning to continue her walk.

She finally came upon a new store she had never seen on walking route: _Ethan__ Books and Stationary. _Sally frowned. She never liked a business that put the owner's name on the front. It always seemed too boastful to her. Like nobody else in the world ever sold a book before, or the paper to write one. She entered to the soft sound of a tinkling bell.

She was immediately hit with the smell of freshly glued bindings and the pleasant sight of newness everywhere. There were stacks of various color paper of every size and quality, and dozens of pens and quills in which to write. There were matching ink wells, and envelopes, leather dressed binders, business cards, memo pads, post-it notes and embossed letterhead. There were announcement cards, mailing labels, so many choices. And finally there were the books and something else that really intrigued her. There was a dusty, old smell in the high-vaulted room that she immediately recognized. It was the smell of oldness. There were some very old books in this place as well; she could tell before she was five feet inside the threshold. Maybe the place had more to offer than she initially thought.

She wound down the aisles to find the normal array of trash, romance novels with their gaudy covers of love-sick females in the clutches of some steroid laden bull without a shirt. How droll. Then there was the informational section and dozens of cookbooks to show people the wrong ways in which to make bread. Tommy would sneer. There were maps to faraway places newly married couples might seek during a honeymoon. The children section was next. _Harry Potter_ was everywhere, _The Story of Michael the Arch Angel_, and the inevitable _Cat in the Hat_.

Then there were the best sellers of the day, and that's when Sally realized just how long she must have been in the hospital. She didn't recognize any of the titles and only one or two of the authors.

"Hmmm… Stephen King has a new one out again." _Another co-authored thing,_ Sally thought shaking her head. _B__een going downhill ever since_ _The Stand_. _The next thing you know, he'll be printing comic books._

She finally found a room separated from the rest by a set of green velvet curtains pulled to the side. Here she found two very comfortable looking chairs under tastefully set reading lamps on a threadbare carpet. It was a reading room set in the decor of the mid 1930s. Sally found herself captivated. She turned to look at the shelves, and there they were — the books she had been seeking the moment she entered the store. They were set individually on their sides on green felt, bindings out to reveal their titles. It was the most impressive collection of books she had ever seen: Poems by Auden sat above a label attached to the edge of the shelf that said, 'First Edition'. The date 1928 was printed in gothic font. _The Maltese Falcon_ ,1930 – wow_._ _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz,_ by L Frank Baum. _Unbelievable – a 1900 edition._ There was something called _The Pyramids_ by Rupert Brooke, 1904.

"See anything you like?" a gentle voice interrupted her from behind.

Sally turned and was surprised to find the man she saw buying the apples from Mario's cart standing in the doorway.

"Oh, hello," Sally replied nervously. She slowly looked back to the shelves. "This is a wonderful collection. I'm surprised you leave them sitting out in public." She noticed the placard on the wall next to a shelf containing a copy of _More Pricks Than Kicks_ by Samuel Beckett, 1934. The sign read, 'Please ask for assistance before removing books.'

The man came and stood next to her. "Some of my favorites were in my father's collection, but I've been able to acquire a few first editions that I'm proud to own."

Sally smiled. The man's voice was very warm and flattering.

"I don't remember this store being here before; is your father the owner?"

The man shook his head. "No… unfortunately, my father passed away a couple of years ago. The store was my idea; we just opened two weeks ago.

Sally could hear it in his voice; the man must have been very close to his father.

"Well… at least he's left you a wonderful collection," she said looking again at the tomes placed respectfully on the shelves. "I'm surprised you would sell them."

"Oh there are those I would never sell, of course. I keep them at home under lock and key. Those would be my father's favorites and I'd never part with those. They might not be worth as much as some of these, but they have enormous sentimental value. He used to read Tolkien to me before bed every night."

"Tolkien?" Sally frowned. "All those ghouls in a young boy's head before falling off to asleep? It's a wonder you didn't have nightmares."

The man laughed. "It's Sally, right? Isn't that what the man at the fruit stand said was your name?" He stuck out his hand.

Sally smiled back, raising her hand to shake his. "Yes, Sally Carmichael, and… you are?"

"Ethan M. Dodge. The new owner and proprietor of what I hope to be my first successful venture in buying and selling."

Sally snorted and then, "Any relation to Major General Glenville M. Dodge?" she replied flippantly.

Ethan's eyes widened. "My God… how in the world did you know that?"

Sally's mouth dropped. She was just as surprised as him. "I was… I was just kidding. Oh… are you saying you _are_ related?"

"Yes, I am… he's a distant uncle." The man anchored his fists on his hips. "Wow… that's amazing. Are you from the mid-west?"

Sally's smile returned quickly. "Nebraska born and bread," she replied with a note of pride.

"No kidding? My father was born in Danvers, same as the General. I've been back a few times to visit relatives, but it's been more than twenty years. Where you from _husker_?"

"I was born just outside of Shubert."

"Wow… what a small world. I've never met anybody who ever heard of old Glenville Dodge."

"Born in 1831 and became famous for his role in building the transcontinental railroad. He's in that famous Promontory Summit photo in Utah, the one where they drove the Golden Spike?" Sally rattled off knowingly.

Ethan rolled his head back and laughed. "You - are - amazing, Sally."

She shrugged. "More important people than Johnny Carson came from Nebraska, you know. In our day, we were expected to remember who they were."

The man stared at her before finally catching himself. "Where are my manners? Please… have a seat, Sally. Can you talk some more?" He was motioning her toward one of the comfortable chairs.

Sally gladly sat down and the two began talking like two old friends at a family reunion. She thought Ethan was a very handsome man, perhaps in his mid-forties. He had light brown hair with just a touch of gray invading his temples. He had a tan, a rarity in Seattle, that he said he acquired recently while traveling to buy books in Texas, but Sally found herself thinking his olive skin was most likely from a Mediterranean blood line. His face was chiseled and well groomed, clean-shaven, which suited well with his tall and thin build. He wore English wool and tweed with the classic leather elbow patches and matching buttons. There was a vest beneath the jacket. She found him extremely knowledgeable on a variety of subjects and Sally was surprised at how he captivated her.

"Rarity is very subjective when it comes to books. Unfortunately there are no easy formulas or guides you can count on, and there are no valid features that set rare books apart from others. In the end, the most significant thing is the book's intrinsic importance. That's the thing that drives demand and creates market value and that sense of rarity." Ethan finally stopped.

"Look at me… nattering on and on about my books. I must be boring you to no end."

"Oh no — not at all, Ethan." She sat back to study him. "You are a surprisingly fascinating person," she added honestly. She looked at her watch. "Oh my; I have a delivery due at my apartment in ten minutes. I should be going." She quickly stood. "It was very nice meeting you."

"The pleasure was all mine, Sally Carmichael, and I hope you will come by my store again."

She smiled but shook her head. "I don't think I would be a very good customer. My being on a fixed income won't allow me to buy your Virginia Woolf," she said longingly, looking at the shelf behind her again.

The man stared at the shelf and then walked over to lift the book down. "If you promise to come back, I'll let you take the book with you."

Sally was surprised. "Ethan! Oh-my-no. It's much too valuable to carry around the city. I would be a nervous wreak having it in my possession. No… I couldn't."

Ethan thought. "Well then… how about this: If you tell me where you live, I'll drop it off for you… if I get your promise you'll come back to see me."

Sally stared at the book pensively in his hands. She looked up into his deep, brown eyes and couldn't believe it when she agreed.

"All right."

"Good, excellent. And your address?" Sally gave it to him.

"I promise I'll take good care of it, and I'll be sure to inform my friend Kari about my barrowing it. That way, if something happens to me, she'll make sure you get it back."

The man frowned disapprovingly. "Sally, we've only just met and new friends always have much to share. Nothing can happen to you now."

She cocked her head to glare up at him. "I'm 93 years old and just out of the hospital; I will take the necessary steps to insure your book is safely returned or I won't take it," she immediately softened, "especially from one as generous as you. Thank you, Ethan."

"You're very welcome, Sally. I'll be by tonight after I close to drop it off."

She turned to leave the room. "I promise not to bore you with my troubles if you come."

"I seriously doubt a person such as you will ever bore me. Your troubles are now mine. Remember Virginia Woolf: Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I to my friends."

Sally turned and grinned appreciatively up at him. "But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, all losses are restored and sorrows end, William Shakespeare."

"A friend knows the song in my heart and sings it to me when my memory fails, Donna Roberts," the man challenged her back.

Sally's heart fluttered. She clutched her purse tight. "Yes… but Dorothy Parker once said, 'Constant use can wear ragged the fabric of friendship.'"

The man tilted back and laughed. "My dear lady… you've changed the quote to suit your deepest fears. The actual quote from Parker is, 'Constant use will not wear ragged the fabric of friendship."

Sally blushed at being caught so easily and then came forward to shake his hand. "If instead of a gem, or even a flower, we should cast the gift of a loving thought into the heart of a friend, that would be giving as the angels give."

Ethan smiled gratefully and whispered, "George MacDonald."

Sally suddenly ranked him close, "And a good friend is cheaper than therapy."

Ethan roared with laughter as he followed her to the door. As she reentered the street, she could hear him reach out again.

"The friend is the man who knows all about you, and still likes you, Elbert Hubbard."

Sally smiled but didn't look back.

7


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5d03

Chapter 5 (Draft 03)

That evening brought rain again and Sally groaned as she peered outside to see her beautiful day, like so many others in the city she hated, had gone to gloom. The sadness she felt swept her mind back to that moment in her dream when her father told her she couldn't stay with the family, but the kettle on the stove suddenly whistled her back to the present and a happy expectation immediately changed her mood. She moved quickly to the kitchen, removed the kettle, and then peeked in the oven to check her muffins. A couple of stabs with a toothpick and she slid them off the rack and onto the burners to cool. She opened her mother's crock to pour the tea and there was a buzz at the door. Another happy pang of anticipation made her smile.

Sally quickly removed her apron, set the muffins on a plate with the tea, and then headed for the door. Ethan Dodge, distant relative of Nebraska's famous Major General Glenville Dodge was standing outside with a book in plastic under his arm and a posy of flowers in his hand. Sally grinned.

"Good evening, Ethan. I hope those flowers are for a nice young lady you're dating tonight."

"As a matter of fact they're for you, young lady," he replied kindly.

"For goodness sake, you shouldn't have bothered with all of that. I'm the one barrowing your book, remember? Please… come in."

The man held his smile as he entered and handed her the flowers.

"Mmmm, something smells good," he said, looking around hopefully. He didn't try to hide his longing for what he was savoring with his nose.

"I've made us some fresh baked muffins… I hope you're not allergic to blueberries."

He sniffed at the air again. "My dear lady, even if I were… I believe I'd beg you to let me try one. They smell wonderful."

"Well there's no reason to beg. Let me take your wet coat and come into the kitchen. I've brewed some tea."

The moment Ethan entered Sally's kitchen, he felt the pangs of recollection. The space was retro mid nineteen forties except for the newer appliances. From her very old tea set and frog plates hanging on the fleshly painted walls right down to the rooster salt and pepper shakers that sat shining like new in the center of a round kitchen table. The muffins were sitting by the shakers next to a stack of napkins.

"Please — go ahead and seat yourself and I'll pour the tea," but the man was already leaning over the stove.

"My God, I don't believe it. Is that Tipp City Novelty?" he asked her.

Sally turned to find him pointing at her spice rack hanging on the wall above her cutting board. Once again, Sally couldn't help marveling at the man's knowledge.

"Why yes, they are Tipp Novelty from…"

"Tipp City, Ohio," Ethan said, cutting across her. He looked at her and smiled. "My mother had a rooster set exactly like them. He stood back to reminisce. "When she passed away, my sister and I fought for days over them." He looked at her. "You know what's funny though? My mother hated them the entire time she owned them. They were a wedding gift from my father's sister, Muriel… and I know they never got along."

Sally brought the tea and poured him a cup. "Well, I think your Aunt Muriel had excellent taste," she observed, raising her eyebrows haughtily. Ethan laughed.

"I always thought so, but my sister was the baker of the family so she won the battle and took the rack."

They sat together to discuss the book now free of its wrappings and sitting between them: _Night and Day_ by Virginia Woolf.

"I've always been somewhat fascinated by women who enjoy Adeline's work," Ethan said matter-of-factly, speaking of the famous author.

Sally sat and took a sip of her tea. "Fascinated? And why is that?"

"All that sadness in her life, the sexual abuse at the hands of her brothers, the family loses leading to her depression and eventual suicide. Her life was extremely successful… but exceedingly sad.

"On the other hand, she worked to break so many bonds constraining the women of her day. She wrote of the general nature of the sexes, love and marriage, the feminism movement, and even lesbianism." He looked at the old woman and immediately realized he might have already gone too far with his assumptions of her interest. Fortunately, he found Sally smiling back at him, so he plowed on. "So what is it about her work that intrigues you? Is it simply her wonderful stories and characters, or was it her advanced thinking on the issues of the day?"

Sally thought. "There's no doubt Virginia Woolf was a writer who's had to overcome tremendous hardships in order to practice her craft. But while it might be true that you can feel Woolf's pain in her writing, and especially in her essays, I don't think she let the dreadful things in her past define her as an author. She was exceptionally brave in her creativity, and there are several characters in her stories that are certainly self-defining, like Septimus Smith from the Mrs. Dalloway story, for example."

Ethan nodded, "And Clarissa's response to Smith's suicide at her party in the Dalloway book was quite telling. Principally in the way her character comes to admire the act."

"As a way to preserve his own happiness?" Sally added enthusiastically. She was already enjoying their discussion immensely.

"Exactly — but don't you think _To the Lighthouse_ tells us more about the author?" Ethan added quickly, "Especially the lack of permanence in the adult relationships she described?"

"Oh I detested the Lily Brisco character in that story…" Sally replied, her face contorting slightly, "and all that self doubt given to her by Tansley. That was rather tragic… but I disagree _Lighthouse_ defined Woolf as well as… say… Orlando did."

"Ahhh… Ethan said, leaning back satisfactory. "Now that might be somewhat telling of you, Sally. Let me ask you then, did you read Orlando as a novel or as the author said she had intended it — as a roman à clef?"

Sally smiled. "The answer to that question might be considered prying in some circles, Ethan."

"Perhaps… but I have the privileged opportunity in this moment together to get to know you better, Sally." He looked at her from under a lowered brow. "So… which is it?"

Sally lifted her cup to sip her tea again. After a long pause, she said, "The latter, I should think. Yes… it does intrigue me more to think of it as a biography."

Ethan grinned. "You are a very fascinating woman, Miss Carmichael."

"Why… I have no idea what you mean… but I'll take that as a compliment."

The man peered over his cup again. "You seem to be just as liberated by the restraints of time as our friend Orlando, Sally, but would you see yourself happier if given the chance to live your life again… as a man?"

"But Orlando was changed into a woman," she replied. Her timid, almost blasé, response was too revealing.

"You know what I mean. My question might be the reciprocal of the character given us in Orlando's story, but nonetheless interesting as it pertains to you."

Sally thought. "There is no doubt that if given a chance to live my life again, I would do things differently. For example, I don't think I would have married the man I did."

This statement seemed to surprise the man. "Really? Now that is interesting. Your marriage wasn't something… arranged was it?"

"Not at all. I wouldn't blame my parents for what were my own decisions in life. I was free to choose the man I did, given my stature as a woman at the time in a man's world." She laughed at his struggles to understand her. "You see, Ethan. The women in my day had very few options open to them. If they wanted to be accepted by society, they were expected to marry, give themselves to the needs of their husbands, bear and raise their children, and keep his home clean and smelling of muffins."

She stopped to stare at him and then contently raised her cup to blow at her tea.

"And… what of happiness, Sally? What of your wants and needs?"

The old woman grinned. "We strove to find happiness in the small things: the smiles of our children, in the occasional thank you given by the husband when setting his dinner," she reached over to tap the book between them, "or in the ponderings of a talented writer."

Ethan Dodge was deeply moved by the woman's confessions to him. From the moment he first saw her standing next to Mario at the fruit stand, he knew there was something different about the woman. These assumptions were reinforced more by her chance decision to enter his store, but in all of his initial observations, he never expected this. The woman was more than interesting; she was absolutely captivating. While her body looked frail and challenged to even stand, her character and spirit burned as white hot within as any woman just entering a world full of opportunity, and it saddened the man that he never knew her in her youth. He set his hand upon hers still resting on the book between them.

"Which bring us to _Night and Day_. You've already read about these meetings between Katharine Hilbery, Mary, Ralph and William Rodney. Why would you wish to read their discourse again?"

"Because it was the only Virginia Woolf I saw on that shelf in your store."

Ethan fell back and laughed again. "I will endeavor to put out my entire collection. I might then get to see more into you."

The woman didn't even smile at the joke. "I believe you think there's more in me than there really is, Ethan," she replied in one disturbing cleave of solemnity.

The man could see she was in deep thought once more, and Ethan found himself holding his breath in anticipation at what she might reveal next.

"The first time I read this story, I was really struggling with my life. I was under pressure from my husband to move to Seattle and soon after we lost my daughter Mary to God's greater Glory."

Ethan frowned. "My God… I'm so sorry."

Sally nodded. "This book became extremely important to me afterward, because the author was capable of discussing the subjects of love and marriage in ways completely foreign to me."

The woman stopped to lift her cup again and then looked away once more to the spice rack over the stove. Ethan could see her struggling with her emotions. He leaned forward to speak gently to her.

"Woolf was famous in this book for posing the really tough questions that souls struggle with even today: is love truly necessary for happiness? Can love and marriage really coexist? Aside from the struggles basic in the book regarding woman suffrage, these questions were the very definition of the author's life, Sally, and for thousands of women reading her work."

The woman looked back at him and for the first time in a very long time she felt something move within her heart. The man seated at the table had immediately changed his position in the rank and file of individuals important to her, and from that moment on Sally knew Ethan Dodge would be person vital in her life. The significance of this inner understanding was immense, of course, and it sent her mind back to the hospital and something Kari Dietz had said after her brush with death. 'I guess it just means you still have some work to do, Sal.'

_No…_ Sally thought stubbornly, _my work on earth is done_. She looked into the man's gentle brown eyes again_… but, perhaps, there are people worth holding heaven away for just a little while longer. _She smiled at him.

There was another buzz at her door, which startled the both of them sitting at the table and Ethan saw Sally frown.

"Were you expecting another visitor?"

Sally got to her feet and headed for the door. "No, I wasn't"

Ethan stood and stopped at the kitchen doorway. Sally opened the door and a woman was standing outside with a wet newspaper.

"Kari! Oh my dear, what are you doing here? Come in — come in — child. What are you doing out in this rain?"

Ethan watched as a very attractive young woman immediately moved inside. Even with the newspaper to protect herself, her head was drenched.

"Thanks, Sal. Sorry about the floor, but it's pouring out there."

"Let me get you something to dry off. Stay there." Sally disappeared for a moment and then returned with a towel. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

The girl took the towel and began mopping her head. "Thanks. Nope… I'm back on days."

Sally looked pleased. "The day shift? Why that's wonderful. I know that's what you wanted. How did that happen?"

Kari shifted to the other side of her head and tilted over to dry again.

"It's all thanks to you. Nurse Ratchet got your letter praising my abilities as a care giver and she called me in to give me the good news yesterday.

"Marvelous. You see? I told you your hard work would eventually pay off. So what are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you were doing. I wanted to… oh… hello." Kari was surprised when she noticed Ethan standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Hello."

"Oh, how could I have been so rude? Kari Dietz… I'd like you to meet Ethan Dodge. Ethan is the proprietor of _Ethan__ Books and Stationary _on Second Street.Kari was my nurse at the hospital.

Ethan came forward with his hand outstretched. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss Dietz."

Kari was still looking at Sally as she reached out to shake the man's hand. "You too; I… hope… I wasn't intruding, Sal. I just wanted to see how you were doing with your meds. Are your supplies getting low?"

"You weren't intruding, dear… never you. As for my medicine, I haven't noticed the need for any refills, but I'll go and get them and we'll check." Sally left the room again and Kari turned to Ethan.

"So… books and stationary, huh?" Kari asked him. She was still taken aback by the man's unexpected presence.

"That's right. Actually we just opened and I was fortunate enough to meet Miss Carmichael for the first time today. I stopped in to loan her one of my books."

Kari looked suspicious. "I've never heard of a bookstore owner making deliveries.

Ethan smiled. "Rarer still — a hospital nurse making a house call." His smiled widened. "It would seem Miss Carmichael brings out the best in all of us. Actually, I was loaning her a book from my private collection. It turns Miss Carmichael is a Virginia Woolf fan.

"Hmmm… I never found the time to take in any good literature," Kari informed him, returning to drying her hair. "Unless you consider the _Reader's Digest_ a quality read.

"Oh, but you really should read the classics. Not only would you enjoy them, but it would serve my business well if you stopped by my store to make your selections. We have a very good top one hundred suggestion list we give to the public."

Kari laughed. "Throw in dinner and I might just do that," she returned quickly.

Ethan was surprised. "I… ah…"

"I think I'm well with my pills, Kari," Sally said, returning to the room and reading the labels on the bottles.

"Let me see."

Kari opened the bottles one at a time to check their contents. "Yep, you're looking good, Sal. You're still not taking very many pain meds."

"I haven't needed them, dear. Not even after my walk this morning."

"Good… excellent." She looked at Ethan again. "Well… I guess I'll take off then."

"I won't hear of it. Not in this rain, you won't," Sally scolded her. "I have tea in the kitchen. Why don't you join us?"

Kari hesitated, looking again at Ethan.

"Actually, I think I should be going, Sally," Ethan said quickly. "I can get my coat and see myself out. I hope you enjoy the book again, and let me know when I can bring you another. I can show you the rest of my Woolf collection, or I could ask you to proof a first addition _The_ _Sun Also Rises_ that I just acquired from Germany. I'd like somebody to read through it to insure there's no missing pages or undocumented damage."

"Oh… Hemingway," Sally sighed joyfully. "I would love to read it again. You say you bought the book in Germany?"

"That's right, in Gaildorf."

"Is it _Fiesta_ or does it carry the American title?"

"Interesting you should ask…" he stopped short to look at Kari again, "but I really should be going. I'll drop by with Ernest in a couple of days."

"Thank you, Ethan. And thank you for the book. I promise to take exceptional care of it."

The man smiled. "I'm not worried." He looked at Kari again. "It was very nice meeting you, Miss Deitz."

"Kari… please… call me Kari," she replied, reaching out to shake his hand again.

"All right, Kari. I hope to see you in my store very soon."

The man put on his coat and opened the door. He gave them a quick wave before entering the hallway outside and closing the door behind him.

Kari walked over to the window to peek out. She watched Ethan leave the building, turn left on the sidewalk, and quickly jog away in the rain. She turned again to face Sally.

"My goodness, Sal. He's absolutely gorgeous. You said you met him just today?"

"That's right. Ethan has quite a substantial collection of rare books in his possession. He's letting me barrow one of them to read."

Sally headed for the kitchen with Kari following close behind. "So where's he from?"

"I don't know where Ethan was born exactly, but his family is from Nebraska."

"Oh… your home state?" She sat down at the table and Sally handed her a plate. "So?"

Sally sat down in front of her and poured the tea again. "So what, dear?"

"Well, don't you think he's handsome?"

Sally tried to look falsely indifferent. She glanced at Kari and frowned. "I… suppose… Ethan would be considered a handsome man, yes."

"Oh come on, Sal. He's a hunk. You must have noticed."

Sally set her tea down and frowned. "Kari Deitz, what are you trying to say? Ethan Dodge is a man half my age. My goodness… I could be his grandmother!"

Kari laughed. "But you're not his grandmother and you're still a woman, Sal. And it would seem you two have several things in common. I'm just saying…"

"I think you've said enough, young lady," Sally admonished her.

Kari giggled. "All right — all right. I'm just looking out for you, that's all. A little romance could be better for you than all these scripts put together."

"You're impossible!"

Kari picked up the book from the table. "Wow… this looks old."

"Be careful, dear. It is a first edition."

"Does that mean it's valuable?"

"I suppose it could be… yes. I wouldn't really know."

"Well let's find out." Kari got to her feet and returned quickly with her bag. She pulled out her laptop and opened the lid.

"What in the world are you doing now?"

"I told you, I'm going to check what the book is worth."

"Kari… that's really none of our business."

"Why? Isn't he trying to sell it?"

"Well, yes, I suppose he is. It was on the shelf in his store."

Kari was already banging away on her computer.

"What's the book called again?"

"_Night and Day_, by Virginia Woolf."

Kari typed some more. "First edition, you said?"

"Yes… that's what Ethan told me." She opened the book to the publisher's page. "Printed by Duckworth in 1919."

"Duck… worth… 1919." Kari typed in the information and hit return.

"Ah… here's an auction house with a listing." She clicked on the information again. "Let's see…"

Sally watched Kari's eyes scanning left and right down the screen from the other side of the table.

"Ethan M. Dodge?"

"Yes."

"Found him! He bought a book with the same title two years ago in London." She clicked again and her eyes scrolled down the page.

"Oh, my God."

"What is it?" Sally leaned forward.

Kari looked up at her and her mouth fell open. "Geez-Louse, it says here Ethan paid fifty-thousand dollars for the first edition.

Sally was stunned. "Fifty thousand dollars?" She looked again at the book sitting on the table between them with renewed awe.

"He just let you barrow it and he only met you today?"

Sally nodded. "Just to read… but I had no idea it was so valuable."

Kari closed her laptop. "Wow… handsome, rich, AND generous. Did he say he had a brother?"

8


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6d03

Chapter 6 (Draft 03)

Two weeks later the phone rang in Ethan's bookstore.

"Hello?"

"Ethan?"

"Yes, Sally."

"Are you busy?"

The man stood on his toes to survey the store around him. "Not really. There are a couple of customers looking for…"

"I need to speak with you. Can I come to the store?"

"Of course, Sally. Is something wrong?"

"I'll be there shortly."

There was a click and Ethan frowned worriedly. In the short time he had known Sally Carmichael, she never sounded panicked. But her tone this time was hurried and a little angered. He slowly set the phone back into its cradle.

"I'll take these," said a smiling woman, setting a set of plastic pens down on the counter.

Ethan made the sale and his eyes followed the woman out the door and into the waiting sun outside. As she disappeared, the man found his gaze stuck on the door.

_She definitely sounded upset._

"Excuse me."

Ethan was startled to find another woman standing at the counter.

"I'm sorry, what?"

The woman frowned. "I asked you if you have _The Catcher in the Rye_ on CD. I see you have the unabridged recordings on cassette, but I was looking for the CDs. Do you carry them?"

He looked at the door again. "No… I'm sorry, I don't."

"Do you know where I can purchase them?"

Ethan looked at the woman and tried to smile. "Ah… do you have a computer at home?"

"Yes."

"Then you can log on to _Amazon_ and order it from there, new or used."

"Oh… excellent! I never thought of that. Do you know what it might cost to do it that way?"

The door tinkled and Ethan looked over. Sally was standing there in her coat and holding her purse tight. She had a book under her arm and was clearly breathing hard. Ethan immediately rounded the counter.

"Excuse me," the customer called to him. Ethan stopped and turned to face her.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't pay more than twenty dollars for the set if it's already used."

"Do you know if the site will gift wrap them before they send it out?"

"Yes… absolutely. Just don't buy too much from them, or you'll put me out of business."

The woman smiled and at last seemed satisfied.

When Ethan reached Sally she was still standing just inside the door. He was stunned she had arrived so quickly. It took ten minutes for Ethan to negotiate the streets to Sally's house. She had made it to his store in half that time.

"Sally, are you all right?"

She was clearly angry. Her eyes were blazing with what looked like utter contempt.

"I need to speak to you in private, Ethan. Is there a place we can be alone?"

"Of course; we can go in the back."

"Laura, can you take over the register for me?" he said to the young girl whom he had just hired three days earlier.

"Sure Mr. Dodge," the girl answered, rising to stand above a box she was unloading. She looked curiously over to Sally. "Is everything… all right?"

Without replying, Ethan turned and headed toward the reading room. He entered with Sally close on his heels and he quickly pulled the curtains closed behind them.

"Would you like to sit?"

She immediate turned to scowl back at him. "Why did you give me this book to read?"

He looked down at his first edition copy of _East of the Sun and West of the Moon_ clinched tight in Sally's hands. Ethan frowned.

"I thought… you might enjoy it. You said you'd never read it."

"And what are the themes important in this book?"

Ethan hesitated. "I… well… there are several."

She scowled again. "Explain them!"

"Sally, what's the matter? You're obviously upset. What can I do to…?"

"Answer the question, Ethan!" She said it in her loudest but still whispered voice. Even in her current state, Sally wasn't one for making a scene in public.

Ethan studied her and then finally directed her to one of the chairs. "Okay, let's talk about it. Please sit down, Sally."

She finally sat, but her livid stare never left him. Her lips were pursed tight and Ethan was astounded that the woman who had just covered four city blocks in record time wasn't gasping for air. Her eyes were ablaze.

Ethan slowly sat himself and then shifted to find a comfortable spot in which to converse.

"Well?" Sally snapped.

Ethan took a deep breath to think. "_East of the Sun and West of the Moon_ comes from an old Scandinavian fairy tale. The original version was called _Prince Hat under the Ground._ Its themes gather their influence from the Greeks in the ancient world after Alexander the Great."

"I don't need the history lesson, Ethan. Get to the point!" the woman retorted.

"I'm trying, Sally. Maybe you should just tell me what's wrong." She glowered back at him and he could see her beginning to wring her purse.

He continued. "The transformation of the man into a bear has been interpreted by some as a young girl's loathing of the sexual act. What's different in this version of the tale is the stepmother's purpose for the man's transformation." He paused.

"Go on!"

Ethan's mind was searching desperately for the cause of Sally's anger, but he knew he hadn't found it yet. His brain tried to race ahead to the last remaining theme he knew was embedded in the story given to her, but he still couldn't see the connection from that to the fire in the woman's eyes.

"Ethan?"

The man shifted nervously in his chair again. "The tale has been interpreted as a figurative depiction of an arranged marriage and the unhappiness and evil within."

Sally immediately stood. "My Sam was not a beast!"

Ethan was taken aback. "I'm… I'm sorry?"

"My husband, Sam, was not a bad person. He was kind and gentle man, and an excellent father and provider to his family."

"But I… would never suggest otherwise."

She thrust the book toward him. "Oh but I think you did!"

Ethan reached out to take the book from her. He looked puzzled.

"Sally, I don't understand. Why would you think I meant to say anything about your life with Sam by giving you this book?"

"Are you denying it?"

He could see her eyes starting to sparkle with tears.

"That I meant to say something about you or your husband?" he answered back straight faced. "Yes. I would deny any suggestion I had a hidden motive. I never meant to connect the themes in this book to you in any way at all. It was one of the few you haven't read in my collection. So I thought you might enjoy it."

Sally sat back down and Ethan could immediately see she wanted to believe him.

"I'm very sorry, Sally, if I've upset you with my recommendation to read it. But you must believe me when I say my intensions were motivated only by the possibility that you might enjoy the writer's style and the settings within the story."

Sally wasn't convinced. "You once asked me if my marriage was arranged and I told you no. All the decisions of my life have been my own. Nobody has ever forced me to do something against my will. I should never have told you I wasn't happy in my marriage."

Ethan leaned forward. "But I'm glad you did, Sally. And not because I wanted to pry into the reasons why you were unhappy, but because that part of your life helped to define a person I thought to be amazingly brilliant and interesting. I wanted to get to know you… and maybe understand what made you the person you are today."

Sally's chin fell, her face distraught, her purse fisted tight. Her voice was sulking and hollow. "The bride's aversion to marry the beast was symbolized by his form." She looked up at him. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Ethan shifted again. "Yes… I would."

"And you didn't mean for me to see this as an analogy of my life with Sam?"

"No, Sally. I didn't."

He watched her eyes fall to look at her feet once more. He could see her struggling with her inner thoughts of betrayal. She looked up at him again, her lips opened to reply… but she didn't. They were shaking.

"I really didn't, Sally."

She stood. "I don't believe you, Ethan Dodge. I think you're a terrible man. You don't know anything about my husband or my life. Sam was a wonderful man. How dare you imply otherwise."

She turned and pushed through the curtains and into the store and Ethan quickly rose to follow her.

"Sally, please… I never meant to say anything like that; you must believe me."

She was already at the door. The bell sounded and she was on the sidewalk. Her quickness astounded him as he followed her out the door.

"Sally — please, come back. We have to talk about this. Come back, I'm begging you!"

The woman stopped and spun around.

"I never want to see you again, Ethan. I think you're a terrible person."

And without waiting for a reply, she turned again and walked away.

Ethan stood there, watching her go. He wanted to chase after her, to convince her he never meant to hurt her, but he knew it was too late. The man slowly turned and reentered the store, his heart crumbling. He thought of Sally reciting Shakespeare: _But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, all losses are restored and sorrows end. _Ethan thought to add to the poem, _Yet without thee, friend, mine sorrows are only to begin. _

Another phone was ringing.

"Howard here."

"Please hold for a call, doctor," said a familiar voice. Doctor Gladwin Howard recognized the man's timbre immediately. It was Bezuhov's muscled bodyguard.

"Doctor Howard?"

"Yes, Mr. Bezuhov. What can I do for you, sir?"

"I thought it was time for us to talk again, doctor. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way."

"Thank you… and I suppose I should be grateful to you personally for this opportunity. The President of the University said you provided a very positive recommendation after our meeting."

"Grateful to me, doctor? Well, if it proved useful… then I'm glad I could help. Are you getting settled in? Have you moved into Wetzler's office yet?"

"No… I haven't," he faltered. "I thought that would be inappropriate given the fact John was my best friend."

"Admirable of you… if not overly benevolent. And I hear young Benjamin received his acceptance letter from Eastman. Am I to assume your son is planning his move to Rochester then?"

Howard hesitated again. "Ah… yes… as a matter of fact he is."

"A shame; I still believe he would have preferred New York, but… no matter."

There was a long pause, and Howard could only imagine the man's doctors at the other end rushing forward to help him with his oxygen mask. He was startled when the old man's voice came back strong and clear.

"I need a report on your review of Wetzler's work by the end of the week, doctor. We've already lost too much time by his inconvenient departure. We should be moving forward without delay."

The doctor was appalled at the use of the word 'inconvenient'. He thought his best friend deserved better than this extremely offensive characterization of his friend's death and his family's grief. It immediately made the man stiffen and look for ways in which to rebel.

"It'll take me a little longer than Friday to review all of the files you had delivered to my house. There was an extraordinary amount of documentation there."

Again there was silence, enough time for Howard to worry about his response.

"Doctor Howard, let me state my expectations… a little more clearly. Please sit down."

Howard had long since stopped trying to guess at whether or not his team's benefactor was watching his every move. He slowly sat down in his chair to listen.

"I expect you to finish your review and report by Friday. No further delay will be tolerated. Failure to comply with my wishes will be met with great hostility, and your continued role on this project will immediately come to an end.

Howard was too stunned to reply.

"Your silence concerns me, doctor, so let me try again, because it is imperative that you understand me. I am a dying man… so I will not hesitate to act upon my disappointments, and not just because I have the means in which to do so, but because more than just my life is at stake here. Your family is also depending on you, doctor. Your wife Elizabeth… Julie… Janice… and Benjamin are relying on your success more than they are allowed to know.

Howard clinched the receiver tight.

"There are twenty four hours in a day, Doctor Howard. Allowing for your normal five to six hours of sleep, this leaves you seventy two hours to complete what I've asked of you; more than enough time." More silence again.

"I… understand, Mr. Bezuhov, and… I'm sorry I've disappointed you. I… will get that report out to you as soon as possible."

"Friday will do, doctor. I am not an unreasonable man, but I believe I've made my point clear. I will call you again after I've read the report."

There was a click and Bezuhov was gone.

As Howard set the phone down, he was certain of two things: First, both he and his family had just been threatened, and second… there wasn't anything he could do about it.

The man cradled his worried head in his hands. _What in the world have I gotten myself into?_

A week later, Ethan was eating lunch by himself in the reading room. The rain outside matched the gloom he felt within his heart. He had tried knocking on Sally door many times following the night of their fight, but there was no answer. The apartment looked dark and she wasn't answering her phone either. The man reflected on his reasons for his giving Sally the book, looking for anything subliminal in his ambitions. Had he actually given her the story because it reminded him of the unhappy marriage she had briefly described to him? No… he was positive he had not, but he _would_ admit to anything if he knew Sally would forgive him.

He looked up at the book, _East of the Sun and West of the Moon_, which sat again in its proper place on the shelf. The friend of a lifetime lost because of a silly misunderstanding; was this to be the final chapter in their friendship?

Still, even though he had been accused unfairly, he was very concerned for Sally. Her reaction to the misunderstanding had left Ethan questioning her motives as well as his own. It was clear she _was_ very unhappy in her marriage to Samuel Carmichael. She said herself he was a man devoid of any true compassion other than what his work brought to him. He had dragged her out of her beloved Nebraska to live in a state she hated, and where she eventually lost her daughter to drugs. Sally never told him what her husband's reaction to Mary's death had been, but to Ethan the fact she didn't mention it said volumes about the man.

He took another bite from the apple he bought from Mario's cart that morning and then looked over at the bowl of diced cantaloupe sitting next to him. He decided to try Sally's door again that night and every night after until she gave him his chance to fight for their friendship, which for some unknown reason, meant more to him now than anything else in his life.

"Hello, Ethan."

The man looked up and found Kari Dietz standing between the curtains.

"Hello! It's… Kari, right?" He immediately stood, wiped his hand on a napkin, and stuck it out.

The woman stepped into the room to shake.

"Hi, she said, smiling back at him broadly.

"Please… come in. Have a seat."

Kari was already inspecting the books lying on the shelves around her. "Wow… Sally said you had a very large collection of old books, but I had no idea."

"How is Sally? I've been very worried about her."

Kari turned to look at him and then sat down. "That's why I've come to see you, Ethan. Sally is a mess." She could see the man's face fall disparagingly into a grimace.

"How do you mean?"

"Well… she's been withdrawn, very quiet, kind of brooding." She looked suspiciously at him. "She won't tell me what's bothering her, but I think it has something to do with you."

Once again, Ethan's face confirmed her suspicions. "I think I've hurt her," he told her longingly and he tried to explain what had happened.

Kari quietly listened to his side of the story, and as he stumbled and faltered to describe Sally's pain, there was a spark of something warm that began to fill her. She didn't really know this man, but there was something about him that she wanted to like. Yes, he was very handsome, but there was a gentleness about him that at first made her suspicious, almost mistrusting. But the more he spoke of Sally, the more Kari began to understand what her friend saw in the man. She watched him fall back into his chair as he finished his account.

"And I've gone back each and every night after closing to see if she'll talk to me, but she won't even answer the door."

Kari thought for a moment and then said, "I think Sally wants to believe you, Ethan. She's not angry anymore, just feeling a little lonely. I know you've only known each other for a short period of time, but I think she misses you."

Kari seemed to be evaluating him. "Can I ask you a question?"

He looked up from the floor a little surprised. "Of course — anything."

"What exactly… do you see in Sally?"

The man frowned. "Well… you should know better than anybody. I shouldn't have to explain to you what's so remarkable about her."

She nodded. "Yes, I love Sally like my own mother, but I'd like to hear you say it. Tell me why you spend so much time with her. I mean… let's face it, Ethan: You're an attractive guy… and could spend your time with just about any girl that walked into this place. You're obviously well off… enough to travel around the world buying and selling these valuable books. So why would you spend most of your free time with a ninety three year old woman?"

Ethan smiled. He finally understood what Kari was doing. She was protecting Sally, a woman who obviously meant as much to her as she did to himself.

He thought about his answer and then said, "Sally Carmichael has lived a very long time, and I've come to know her as a woman of immense goodness and deepest thought. She has a beautiful fire within her that draws me, Kari." He glanced up at her and looked momentarily distracted by the personal level of his confessions. "She reminds me of an exquisite sunset, fading fast on the horizon of life, but burning more and more beautiful with each passing moment toward that far away and unreachable horizon. There is so much to know about her before she finally reaches…" his words stumbled and he looked away.

Kari was touched by the man's honesty and his ability to translate his feelings into words. She found herself wanting to reach out to him, to turn his attention away from Sally and to herself. She wanted his attention, his alertness to her own offerings as a younger woman more suited to satisfy the deeper longings that she thought she perceived in his silent thoughts. Certainly, she could offer his man more than Sally… _but was that really true?_

Ethan was showing the uncanny ability to direct Kari's attention at something within Sally Carmichael that the girl already knew well, but given a lifetime to try, she could never describe. She suddenly felt ashamed at wanting him, at wanting to take him from her friend.

He looked deep into her eyes and said, "It's difficult to tell you what attracts me to her, Kari, but…" he stared up at the ceiling, as if trying to locate some distant memory before clearing his throat:

"The sun at bay with splendid thrusts still keeps the sullen fold;

"And momently at distance sets, as a cupola of gold,

"The thatched roof of a cot a-glance;

"Or on the blurred horizon joins his battle with the haze;

"Or pools the blooming fields about with inter-isolate blaze,

"Great moveless meres of radiance."

He looked over at her again and Kari could see the tears brewing in his eyes. He shrugged.

"Victor Hugo," he whispered softly, before wiping his face with the back of his hand. "Sally is… a most beautiful and wonderful sunset."

The girl smiled and from that moment on, Kari Dietz never questioned Ethan's motives ever again.

"That… was beautiful, Ethan."

She suddenly stood. "Well this is just ridiculous! You've done nothing wrong and Sally is miserable. I have to fix this."

She headed for the door as Ethan got to his feet.

"If you could just convince her to talk to me again, Kari, I would be most grateful."

She turned to face him and felt another pang of longing.

"Sally's always calling me 'a little schemer' — and for good reason most of the time. Let's see if I can find a way to put the two of you together again. Give me your number and let me think about this; I'll make it my little project."

He wrote down his number and handed it to her.

"I can't thank you enough for trying, Kari. Please call me when you think of a way. I'll do anything."

Sally awoke the next morning feeling strange. She had grown accustom to the deep stiffness in her bones and the pain radiating up her spine to her neck since before her eightieth birthday, but this was different. Normally, the pain would last until ten or eleven o'clock when her "old trigs" had a chance to warm up and throw off the disease of time. Along with the pain in her back were her swollen legs and especially her feet. The doctors said the problem was bad circulation due mainly to a weakening heart. She remembered smirking the first time at hearing this diagnosis. _Weak heart… he could just as well had said old heart._

She eventually learned to sleep with her legs set on a stack of pillows. This uncomfortable practice made the task of getting up in the morning a little easier and a lot safer than the days when she literally fell to the floor while trying to stand.

But this Wednesday morning brought something she hadn't experienced in more than twenty years. For the first time in recent and certainly escaped memory, Sally had awakened and climbed unthinkingly out of bed and was halfway to the bathroom before it occurred to her… there wasn't any pain.

The realization of this wonderment brought confusion and then shock. She actually froze where she stood when comprehension struck her, expecting nothing less than a short trip face down to the floor. Maybe her legs were a little stronger that morning, but as soon as the pain in her spine found its way into her dulled brain, she was sure the walking parts of her body would begin the process of shutting down. But no: Given the time necessary to know, there was only the slightest twinge of… _no_, she thought in amazement… _there wasn't any pain whatsoever_. She finally gathered the courage to move to the chair next to the window where she gradually sank to sit. And there she waited for it; waited for that spike of sorrow, the reminder that she had lived much too long. But after another minute of uneasiness… she found that she was still comfortable.

She leaned over to raise the hem of her nightgown and looked at her feet. There was no swelling in her arches, and the bright veins that usually pooled to glow an angry shade of blue looked rather happy and pink. She raised her hem to inspect more of her legs and was surprised to see a small budge of muscle in her calves where there was usually hanging flab. Maybe they were cramped. She massaged the places that looked tight and found them soft and reasonably unrestricted. And then she noticed something else. Her hand, the thing rubbing her leg that very moment, looked foreign to her. She raised her hand to look at it closely, turning its palm to the front and back. It looked like a stranger's hand, but that was definitively her wedding band on the ring finger. The hand looked strangely smooth and supple. The liver spots she had found when she turned fifty were still there, of course, but they seemed… she couldn't believe it… lighter in color. She looked at her other hand and flexed her fingers. This hand looked even better than the first; even her crooked index finger, the one she had broken in a machine shop during the war, looked longer… straighter, nearly perfect.

"What in the Lord's good name…?"

She leaned back to look out the window where she found a nearly perfect day. No rain, not a cloud in the sky. She worked the lock, slid the sash up, and immediately caught the scent the flowers outside. A warm breeze blew into the room to encircle her and she could see the other parts of it moving through the uncut grass in front of the apartment. It reminded her of her childhood, when she would sit for hours watching the currents of air move through the wheat fields of her Nebraska home, like the living fingers of God combing those golden knolls. That's when an idea dawned on her and she immediately looked around to her empty bed.

"I must have died in my sleep. And all of this… this must be heaven."

The woman unconsciously pinched herself and the pain of it coincided with a honking horn outside. _No…_ she thought disappointedly. _It would seem that I'm still here; still working to fulfill God's greater, all be it inconvenient, plan._

She sighed and thought about her argument with Ethan Dodge. She missed their conversations, the love of the literature they shared. Sally looked down at her wedding band again, hanging like a lose bobble on a stranger's hand. He couldn't have been so callous as to think he could force her to remember the worst part of her marriage to Sam. Still, at the time, she was so sure he had done so. Now, however, she wasn't sure. The thought of what she had said to him made her feel uncomfortable to sit, and the old pain she had expected when she was standing suddenly seemed to arise within her, but then she thought of Ethan's gentle face the soreness retreated again. She looked outside and watched the grass shifting under the current's ebb and flow and she smiled. She had to see him again.

She stood and headed into the bathroom and looked at her reflection in the mirror. At first, she felt a wrench of disappointment, but what had she expected? Was she hoping to see some beautiful twenty-year old staring back? _Well that certainly wasn't the case._ Sally's old face was still there, no different than any other morning going back as far as she could remember without her family photo album sitting on her lap.

She came forward to inspect her face more closely, and found herself disappointed again. Sally was never one to talk about it, but there was a day, in fact several of them, when she did collect her share of wolf whistles before leaving Omaha. The face staring back at her wouldn't know anything about that now, of course, but the memory was still there if for no other reason than to sound the horn of regret at how far her vanity had fallen.

"You're getting to be a very old woman, Sally Carmichael," she mumbled to herself blandly. "Old… wrinkled… and gray."

And that's when she did notice something different in the mirror. She slowly came forward again to look at her hair and closer still at her scalp; and there it was. Protruding like a dirty spring in much the same way she had found her first gray hair at the age of thirty-two. But this time… she reached in to grab the hair and then promptly yanked it out. She held it up to the light and turned it between her fingers to inspect it. Not trusting her eyes, she took a piece of toilet paper and set the hair between the folds. It was black. One black hair on a head that hadn't seen any color since she used an anniversary gift certificate to change the few she had left to match the occupying force of gray. She always thought how stupid she was for doing that, considering the fact she never saw another black hair growing on her head afterward; not until now, that is.

She leaned forward again to look for another. No luck. She looked down again at the curl in the stranger's hand and marveled at its ebony shine. Once again, she thought how stupid she had been to pull it out.

10


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7d02

Chapter 7 (Draft 02)

There was a knock at the apartment door and Sally knew it had to be Ethan. She was praying he would stop by again like he had done so many times after their argument over the book. It was her intention this time to answer the door, make her apologies, and salvage whatever portion of their friendship was possible.

Expecting to hear his call once more from the hallway, Sally was nervous and a little fearful as she approached the door. She didn't realize until after their literary alliance had broken down just how much she had grown dependent on the man. Ethan Dodge had unknowingly helped Sally to reflect upon the world in ways far beyond what she could have imagined on her own. But more than their love of the individual books they shared, Sally was sure they were leveraging something much more important from each other.

There was an easy closeness and sincerity connecting the two of them, an ability to share the deepest secrets and feelings like nobody else. The man had unknowingly become a necessary part of Sally's existence in much the same way she needed air to breath. Without him, she felt hindered, apprehensive and stifled. She missed their deep reflective talks more than anything she could remember in life, with the possible exception of her daughter's absent presence. Of course, the irony of the situation did not escape her. Their quarrel had centered itself upon the relationship with her late husband, whose memory she now realized was much less important to her than the damage it had caused to her relationship with Ethan. She missed the man terribly.

Sally peered through the peephole in the door and frowned. It was not Ethan standing in the hallway after all.

"Yes?" She said to the stranger on the other side.

"Mrs. Carmichael?" replied a deep voice. "My name is Police Detective Coleman. May I speak to you please?"

Sally stood back, a little surprised. She came forward and unbolted the locks, but left the chain attached. She cracked the door to look out. A tall, slender man stood on the other side in a suit and tie.

"Yes? Is something wrong?" Sally asked the man shyly.

"Are you Sally Carmichael?"

"Yes… I am."

"I'm sorry to bother you at dinner, ma'am, but I'd like to ask you some questions about some recent burglaries in the neighborhood." He showed her his badge.

"Burglaries… in… in our building?"

"Oh no, ma'am. A couple of businesses a few blocks away. Can I come in?"

"Well…" Sally looked back unconsciously to survey the level of messiness in the room behind her, "I really don't know how I can be of help to you, but… yes, of course."

She slid the chain and opened the door fully. At once the man standing on the other side of her threshold looked much more menacing, but his voice remained light and casual.

"Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate your time." He stepped inside and Sally closed the door behind him, but left it unlocked.

"You said there was a robbery?"

The man was looking around her apartment appraisingly before finally turning to face her. He then frowned in a way that made him look confused. He took out a small notebook from his inside pocket and flipped it open to a written page.

"You… are Sally Carmichael?"

"Yes… I am."

His smiled suddenly returned. "I'm sorry; I was told to look for an elderly woman in her nineties. Forgive me for being so forward, but… you don't look your age."

Sally raised an eyebrow. "I hope that doesn't mean I looked older. I only recently got out of the hospital," she said, unconsciously preening her hair, "and your visit was a surprise."

"Oh no, ma'am. You look amazing, much younger than I…" he stopped to look down at his notebook again.

"You said you had a question?" Sally finally said.

The man was writing in his book and then looked up. "That's right. There have been a number of burglaries in the area over the last few weeks and it's my job to investigate them." He swung his jacket to the side to reach into his back pocket and Sally could see his firearm strapped to his side. He pulled out his wallet and then handed her his business card. Sally read it carefully.

"Senior Investigator, Residential Crime Prevention Coordinator, West Precinct Burglary Unit." She handed the card back. "And… your question?"

"Do you know a man named Ethan Dodge? He owns the bookstore around the corner from you."

"Oh dear," Sally replied, suddenly terrified. "Is Ethan all right?"

The man immediately looked to sooth her concerns. "Oh yes, we're sure he's fine. It's just that we believe Mr. Dodge is out of town and we were hoping to talk with him about the break-ins."

"Oh… I didn't realize that Ethan was away." She looked up at the detective once more, afraid for Ethan again. "Don't tell me somebody broke into the store while Ethan was traveling? All those books! His collection of rare books! Oh my… have they been…?"

"No, ma'am. We don't believe his store was robbed, but we need to be sure. Do you know how we might contact Mr. Dodge? Do you have access to his store?"

"I have his telephone number for his… ummm… what do you call them?" she made a gesture like she was talking on a telephone.

"A cell phone number?"

"Yes, yes. That's right. He gave it to me after I barrowed one of his books. I'll get it for you."

She found her purse and then the number. "Here it is."

"Very good, ma'am. Thank you. I'll call him when I get back to the precinct to check if he's seen anything suspicious or any unreported problems. He's the last business owner I need to speak to on that block."

"He has a new girl working for him. Maybe you should talk to her as well."

The detective seemed surprised. "He does? Would you know the girl's name?"

"I think he said her name was… Laura." Sally stopped to think. "I'm sorry; I don't know her last name."

"That's fine," the man said, writing the name down. "I'll check into it. Well, that's all I needed. Thank you for speaking with me." He started toward the door. "I'm going to try and contact Mr. Dodge tonight, but I'd like to ask you to keep an eye out for him. If you happen to see him, please have him contact me immediately." He handed his card back to her again. "You can keep that."

"Yes… of course, I will."

She opened the door and the man stepped outside.

"Detective Coleman?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I don't understand. Why did you come to see me about Ethan?"

"Ma'am?"

"I mean… surely with all the other shops around Ethan's store there must have been somebody who could have given you this information."

The man seemed surprised by the question. "Oh, well it hasn't been so easy to find anybody who knows that much about him. I did ask around, but the only person anybody could think of that might know where he is… was you. It was easy to find you once I got your name. Unlike Ethan Dodge, you're very well known in the neighborhood." He smiled at her and then looked down at the phone number she had given to him. "And you proved to be very helpful indeed. Thank you again."

"Please keep an eye out for Mr. Dodge and have him contact me as soon as possible. If he has valuable property inside his store, I'd like to warn him about these burglaries."

Sally nodded. "Oh — I most certainly will. Thank you, detective." She closed the door and didn't bother to lock it. She immediately headed for the closet to get her coat.

Outside the apartment building, Detective Coleman was smirking. He stepped down to the sidewalk, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He looked back up at the windows of Sally's apartment as he lit his cigarette, smiled again, and then continued down the sidewalk alone. When he reached the end of the block, he tossed his cigarette and opened the driver's door of a black sedan and sat down behind the wheel.

"Well?" said a woman's voice next to him.

The man looked over and smiled at Kari Dietz.

"She bought it."

"She wasn't too upset, was she?"

The man leaned over to put his face almost nose to nose with hers. "How about a kiss first?" he said, grinning expectantly.

Kari fell back. "That's old news, Robert," she replied, rolling her eyes and looking out the passenger side window.

The detective laughed. "Oh come on, Kari. It was always good between us. Why'd you call me then?"

She looked back at him. "I told you… I wanted to help a friend."

"You know… I could get into a lot of trouble for faking a police investigation. I could be suspended for doing this for you."

"Funny…" she scowled at him, "you didn't mention that when I asked you to help me put Sally and Ethan back together again."

He leaned in again. "Come on, just a little kiss; for old time's sake?"

Kari rolled her eyes again and then quickly kissed him.

"Now — now. You can do much better than that, Ms. Dietz."

Kari smiled and then leaned in. "Okay… thank you for helping me," she said softly, and she kissed him long and deep. He groaned as he slid his hand over her waste and then up to her right breast. There was a delay and then Kari fell back.

"You never knew when to stop, Robert," she said scathingly. "Is that why you agreed to help me?"

He fell back and smiled. "If you're asking me if I wanted you in the sack again… the answer is definitely yes." He came across. "Come on Kari. You have to admit, what we had was fantastic."

She thought about it and then smiled. She reached up to softly touch his face. "It was good, Robert, but… we had a lot of problems too."

"Most of which were caused by your changing shifts, but we're both on days now. It would be better this time, Kari. Come on… what do you say?"

She looked into the man's dark brown eyes. Kari always loved Robert Coleman's eyes. Even in the dark and in the heat of passion, she always loved the way his tender eyes roamed longingly over her body. He was the only man she ever knew who wanted her more even while making love to her.

She leaned over to kiss him again. "Maybe…" she finally said. And then she looked over his shoulder.

"Oh, my God! Sally's coming. Hide me! She can't see us together."

The man looked back and saw Sally Carmichael bustling quickly up the sidewalk.

"The old woman moves pretty fast for," he looked over at Kari, "how old did you say she was?"

"Ninety-three — hide me!"

He leaned over to kiss Kari again and waited until Sally passed the car. They pulled apart to watch her push the button for the crossing, not taking notice of their car.

"And there she goes, making a beeline right to the bookstore." Robert looked at Kari again and found her smiling as she watched the old woman crossing the street and onto the curb on the other side. The detective frowned.

"I know you see your friend nearly every day, so maybe you haven't noticed."

Kari looked at him and caught him scrutinizing her friend as he would a suspicious criminal.

"Noticed what?"

He pointed out the window. "I want you to take a close look at her and tell me… if you were to see her for the very first time today… how old would you say she is?"

Kari frowned and then looked over at Sally moving with purpose and urgently through the pedestrians on the other side of the street. She squinted to study her friend closely.

"Maybe… I don't know… mid-seventies."

"More like early sixties to me," he replied appraisingly, "and I'm very good at guessing a person's age. It's a talent I've always had even when I was growing up." He looked at Kari staring at him. "Did I ever tell you I used to work the _Guess Your Age_ booth at the wharf in Frisco while in college?"

Kari raised an eyebrow, and then turned to watch Sally continue down the street. Her old boyfriend was right. Sally Carmichael looked years younger than when she was released from the hospital a few weeks earlier. Although she wasn't all that different to look at in the face, Kari usually didn't see Sally walking alone down the street. The way she moved, and especially the way she darted quickly left and right to avoid those passing her going the other way; it was amazing.

Robert leaned over next to Kari's ear to watch Sally turn the corner. "Yep… no more than sixty-two, I would guess," Kari looked back at him and he smiled at her, "and I went a whole week in that booth without giving up a single prize for being wrong."

Sally was surprised when she found Ethan's bookstore open for business five minutes later. She walked in to the familiar tinkle of the bell and the fragrant smell of fresh stationary.

"I'll be right with you," said a girl's voice in the back.

A minute later, "Hello, may I help you?" The girl Sally had seen the last time she was in the store came forward, smiling widely. "Oh, hello. You're Mr. Dodge's friend, right?"

"Sally Carmichael," Sally said quickly. "Is Ethan… I mean… is Mr. Dodge out of town?"

"Sally?"

She turned and found Ethan coming out of the reading room.

"Ethan! Oh… I thought… that you were out of town."

The man was coming forward quickly, his smile widening.

"Sally… it's so wonderful to see you again. Please… can I talk to you? I'm so very sorry, Sally, about the book, I mean. You have to believe me when I say I didn't mean to hurt you, I could never…"

"Ethan…"

"hurt you in any way on purpose. But I know what I did must have seemed insensitive."

"Ethan…"

"Sally, I'll do anything to make it up to you. I can't apologize enough for…"

"Ethan Dodge — enough!"

Ethan was staggered and immediately silenced. Sally came forward to stand before him, her purse clutched tight again.

"Ethan… I'm the one who should be apologizing to you." He looked like he was about to argue, but, "Not another word, Ethan; not until I've said what I have to say."

She took a deep breath. "I was rude to you, Ethan. I was insecure with my feelings about my life and my husband, and I took out my frustrations on somebody I've come to regard as more than just a casual friend. I am very, very sorry for yelling at you without cause, for ignoring your virtuous attempts to reach out to me for the sake of our friendship, and most of all… for forcing you to think you did something wrong." Sally finally took a breath when the door tinkled behind her. Ethan never looked up. His eyes were completely focused on Sally's every word.

"I've missed you, Ethan. And I can only hope and pray that you will forgive me for my rudeness to you. My parents would be ashamed of me." The woman then took a step back from him, and Ethan could tell she was nervously waiting for his response.

Ethan couldn't help showing his tears. He slowly reached out and took her hand in his. It was the very first time he had ever knowingly touched the woman, and he immediately noticed how soft her hand was in his. He slowly bent down and kissed her hand, never breaking his gaze.

"My dearest friend; let us not lose our breath to speak,

"For you are the dearest thing to breathing in life.

"Let us not lose our sight to see one another,

"For you are the dearest of things in life to see.

"Let us not lose our passion one for the other in greeting,

"For passion defines itself in us.

"Let us be friends now and always,

"For now is short and always is fleeting.

Sally smiled gratefully and than came forward to hug him.

"I'm sorry… but I don't recognize the poet," she whispered to him, her eyes closed as she gripped him tight.

He sniffed and stood back "Ethan M. Dodge… at your service… for a word, a good book or a poem, but always… as your friend, Sally."

They stared at each other for a very long time before another voice interrupted them.

"Well… it's about time you two made up."

They turned and found Kari standing below the bell at the door.

Sally immediately stepped back from Ethan, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Oh no, you two go right ahead. It's nice to see you together again."

Ethan laughed. "Hello, Kari. It's nice to see you again. Come in, come in."

Kari came forward to put her arm around Sally's shoulder. "I saw you coming this way on the street outside and decided to follow you. I see the two of you have finally made up?"

Sally looked again at Ethan and nodded.

"Good — it's about time. I came to take Sally to dinner, Ethan. You want to join us?" She looked up at the man and he smiled.

"Only if you would allow me the pleasure of buying."

Kari grinned, looked at Sally, and then back to Ethan. "Well I haven't seen a raise in nearly two years, so I won't argue." See looked at Sally again. "Whatdaya say, Sal?"

"I think… that would be lovely."

"Laura… can you close tonight?" Ethan hollered out, still staring at Sally.

"No problem," came the girl's voice from the back.

"Ladies?" Ethan said, sticking out a hooked elbow to each of them. "I've always wanted to try that new Italian place on Fifth Street. Care to join me?"

Kari was already on board when Sally thought of something.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Ethan. A police Detective Coleman came by my apartment a few minutes ago and he said he wanted to speak to you." She reached inside her purse and handed Ethan the policeman's business card. "He said there have been some burglaries in the area and he wanted to speak to you about them."

Ethan frowned and took the card to read the information. "Burglaries? But I haven't heard of any burglaries."

"He was quite insistent that you call him. I think he's warning everybody in the neighborhood."

Ethan looked at Sally. "Okay… I'll call him first thing in the morning." He noticed Kari, examining a nearby shelf; she was a study of uncaring innocence. Ethan frowned and then looked down at the card again. He seemed skeptical.

Kari came forward to primp Sally's hair. "Sal, I have to tell you… you're looking absolutely fantastic these days. I was just telling a friend how wonderful you were doing."

Sally smiled. It was the second compliment she had gathered in the last hour. "Oh… well thank you, dear." She looked up at Ethan again. "What a very nice thing to say to an old woman."

Ethan was staring at her too. "She's right, Sally. You do look amazing." He stood back to seriously appraise her, raising his hand to his chin to think. "What have you done to yourself?"

Sally was surprised again. "What have I…? Nothing."

"No — seriously, Sal," Kari chimed in. "You have done something to yourself. You look… I don't know… younger." She looked at Ethan again for validation.

"Yes… exactly. My goodness, Sally, you look years younger than when…" he caught himself about to say 'had their argument'.

"Than when we were fighting?" Sally finished for him. "Well then, perhaps I should throw a tantrum a little more often if this is the praise I can expect."

Ethan moved in quickly. "No thank you. I like you just the way you are, Sally Carmichael." He stuck out his elbow toward her again. "Shall we?"

That night, the trio sat down to dinner and noticed Mario and his family nearby. They were waving back and immediately stood.

"Sally! Oh it's so good to see you again," said Mario's wife, "reaching down quickly to kiss Sally on the cheek.

"Hello, Mary. It's good to see you again too. You know Kari Dietz, of course, and this is Ethan Dodge." She pointed to Ethan who stood to shake the woman's hand.

"Hey… mister one-apple-a-day," Mario chimed in quickly, shaking Ethan's hand as well.

"You behave yourself, _Mair_, or I'll put a fork in your eye," Mary threatened him.

"What…? Hey, we're good friends now, huh?. The man's buying fruit almost as much as our beautiful Sal here; am I right?" Mario looked at Ethan for help.

"The best fruit in town. It just took me a while to appreciate it," Ethan answered. "Please… why don't you join us?"

"Oh, we don't want to impose," Mary said politely.

"Please do," Kari added.

They motioned for the waiter and their tables were pushed together.

"So Ronald, I suppose you're soon off to college?" Sally asked Mario and Mary's son.

"Yes, ma'am. That is… if my father will ever cut me loose from working the stand."

Sally looked scandalized. "Mario Bianchetti, you cannot keep that boy your slave forever! It's time to let him go into the world."

Mario put his hands up in surrender. "_Madonn_! He works until the first of the month and then he's gone forever, and I'm supposed to be happy about this? He's my son!"

"Gone forever… listen to him," Mary said mockingly of her husband. "Ronnie will be lucky if he doesn't see his father every weekend up at that college.

"Listen to her," Mario answered, pointing with both hands toward his wife. "She'll be in tears for a month after he's gone."

Mary finally broke a smile and reached over to hug her son. "Our little boy… all grown up."

"Ah, ma… please, no P.D.A."

"Public display of affection," Mario whispered to the rest with a chuckle before looking to Sally again.

"Sal… what have you done to yourself?" He reached over to pat Sally's hand. "You look _favolosamente __(fa-val-lusa-men-ta)_, stupendous."

Sally was surprised once more.

Kari's face lit up. "Isn't that weird? Ethan and I were just telling her the same thing tonight." She looked over to Sally again appraisingly. "Doesn't she look absolutely radiant?"

Mary reached over. "Let me see your hand, Sal."

Sally looked at the others skeptically and then stuck her right hand forward. She had done this many times before with Mary.

"Ma, please… not here… we're in a restaurant."

"There she goes again… with all the hocus-pocus and her palm-reading," Mario complained, looking around the table watchfully.

"It's not palm-reading, Mair. I keep telling you… it's called _chirology_."

"Potato — Potatoe." Mario rolled his eyes and looked at Ethan. "Can you believe this?" he said gesturing animatedly. "My wife… the good and proper Catholic, believing in all this hocus-pocus." He looked again at his wife. "What would the Pope say to this, I ask you?"

The woman opened Sally's fingers to peer down at her palm where she began tracing each of the lines on her hand. She immediately looked up and frowned.

"My goodness, Sal. What have you been doing to yourself?"

Kari leaned in interestedly. "What? What do you see?"

Mary pulled Sally's hand over to show Kari.

"Oblong hand with long fingers, ring finger longer than her index finger, most of her knuckles clean and straight, all the same as before." she looked up at Sally again. "But your broken finger is straighter now; in fact, it looks nearly perfect."

Sally smiled. "Yes… I noticed that yesterday, and it's much more flexible — look," and she bent a fist several times to show her.

Mary grabbed her hand to quickly look again. She rubbed it gently and then turned it over to smell the back. "Are you using a new hand cream?"

"No."

"Anything at all?"

"No."

"My goodness… your hands look better than mine. Look at this." The woman moved her own hand in to compare.

"I told you to use gloves when you're washing those dishes. All that scalding water is very bad on the hands," Sally explained.

"But the skin is so smooth, and using gloves doesn't explain the fixed finger." She turned Sally's hand over to look inside. "Your heart line has changed too," she observed, tracing the line across her hand under the fingers. She looked up again. "Did you meet somebody nice in the hospital, a man who showed and interest in you?"

"Mary!" Sally said, looking put off.

"What?" Kari chimed. She was smiling.

Mary looked at her. "Definitely romantic matters of the heart here," she whispered knowingly, pointing down into Sally's palm.

Kari's smiled broadened as she looked over at Sally. "You _have_ been fixing yourself up, haven't you? I knew it! So who's the guy?"

Sally looked aghast. "I have not; and there's no man running around looking to date some ninety- year old hag."

The table immediately erupted in protests to Sally's describing herself so rudely.

"There's Mr. Hirch," Ronnie added, and everybody turned to look at him. "He's the old guy living next door to Sally at the apartment. He's always knocking on her door and trying to pay for Sally's deliveries."

Everybody turned to look at Sally again.

"Ooooow," Kari cooed, grinning evilly. "Why… Sally Carmichael; there's still a little fire left in that engine after all. Good for you! So… is he handsome?"

Sally was at first speechless, but when her voice returned she sounded angry.

"I wouldn't allow that old coot to cross my threshold if he were clutching his chest with both hands. He's nothing but a dirty old man, looking to…" she suddenly stopped to adjust the napkin on her lap. "I will not dignify this subject as a part of our conversation any longer."

Mary took Sally's hand to look again. She traced a long line from her thumb to her wrist before looking up.

"Your life line is deeper, Sal, and it's the most dominant feature on your entire hand now. Your fate line is longer too."

"What does that mean?" Kari asked her excitedly.

Mary looked astonished. "Her life line reflects drastic changes to come, and the fate line signals circumstances are on the way that are way out of Sally's control." She closed her friend's hand to look up at her. "You've never had a travel line that I can remember. Are you planning to take a long trip? Maybe a vacation somewhere?"

"Heavens no!" Sally protested, finally taking her hand back.

"You know, chirology can trace its roots back to Hindu Astrology when it was called _Jyotish_," Ethan injected, trying to come to Sally's rescue. "The Hindu sage Valmiki is thought to have written a book on the subject more than five thousand years ago."

"I'll bet you'd love to get your hands on that book, ay Ethan?" Kari added with a smirk.

Mary looked confused. "I don't understand how your lines could have changed so much, Sally. I've never seen anything like it. It's almost like…" she hesitated and Sally frowned.

"Go on… what do you think it means, Mary?" Kari said, still excited by the demonstration.

Mary was still looking at Sally and then smiled happily. "It's like your life is just beginning, like you're starting over."

Sally raised her eyebrows, her mind slipping briefly to her hospital dream of her father and mother on the dirt road to Shubert.

Sally took a deep, reluctant breath and said, "I'm ninety-three years old, Mary. How am I supposed to start a new life?" She picked up her glass of water and took a sip. "I think you're missing the obvious, dear."

"What do you mean?" Mary replied. She leaned in, almost desperate for an explanation.

Sally sat her glass down and then daubed her lips with her napkin. "Heaven can also be considered a new life. It's life-eternal, isn't it? Perhaps what you're seeing is the end of my physical life and the beginning of my new life with God."

"Sally, how can you say such a thing?" Kari chided her, looking appalled.

Sally put her napkin down; she looked decided. "Kari, my dear, I'm a very old women and… a pragmatist. I've lived fifteen years longer than the average woman in America today. I'm not going to live very much longer and I'm fine with this reality. I'm ready for God's review of my life and to see my daughter again… my father and mother."

Kari looked to protest once more but Sally cut across her.

"When I first got out of the hospital, I will admit I was a little angry I had to go home to that apartment and continue to live with all the aches and pains given my age. But I've come to realize… I've been recently blessed with a lot less pain and so many friends to make whatever time I have left joyful and pleasant. Thankfully… I still have my mind… thanks in part to Ethan's academic inspiration."

The waiter arrived with the plates, which seemed to break the spell of Sally's words.

"Ah… dinner," Sally said eagerly. She raised her glass of wine. "As someone who has lived a very long time, I would like to say something to all of you.

"Life is all about these shared moments with family and companions. I am blessed to have so many friends, both old and new," she said, nodding to Ethan. "A toast: to friendship and good cheer. If there is a secret to long life and happiness, I am convinced it must be here."

Ethan smiled and raised his glass. "Poetry."

They all smiled.

"Here-here."

The circle of friends tapped their glasses in the center and enjoyed their meal together.

62


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8d09

Chapter 8 (Draft 09)

It was nearly ten days before Kari saw Sally again. Ten of the most glorious days Kari could remember in a very long time. She had taken a vacation with Robert Coleman to celebrate a renewed love affair after their brief hiatus at the hands of Nurse Ratchet. To be honest though, Kari's scheduling change to the nightshift the year before was just the excuse she needed to end her relationship with Robert at the time. Yes… their breakup was indeed something Kari had carefully planned.

It wasn't because she was continually fighting with Robert, and certainly not because of a boring sex life. As Robert had said in the car outside of Sally's apartment, that part of their relationship had always been good; more than good, it was fantastic. Their sexual antics together had even played themselves out far outside the bedroom, sometimes in restaurants and movie theaters, and one time they even did it in the changing room of her favorite shoes and bags store.

So why had she ended it a year ago? She told Robert at the time it was because she had to concentrate on saving her job after being moved to nights, but that was a lie. The truth was she couldn't stand watching him making love to her with that stupid red X ablaze on his forehead all of the time. Even when she tried shutting her eyes she could somehow see it burning through her eyelids, bright as a summer sun, warming her face as he climaxed. But those days seemed long forgotten now, and judging from the last ten days she and Robert had just spent together in a romantic beachside resort, their bond hadn't lost any of its spice and spark.

Kari was heading back to the bedroom after her morning shower when the doorbell to her townhouse on Leonard Street sounded hurried. Kari stuck her head out.

"Robert, can you check who that is? I'm not dressed yet."

Her man was already frowning at the door from his comfortable chair when the bell turned into a loud knock.

"Got it!" he hollered back. "Okay, hold on, I'm coming. Christ… who's in such a hurry?"

He quickly opened the door to find a woman he at first didn't recognize standing on the other side.

"Yes?"

The woman frowned up at him; obviously she was surprised at his presence at the apartment too.

"Detective Coleman?"

"Yes?"

"Is… Kari here? It's urgent that I speak with her."

Within seconds Robert's city-paid instincts were shifting into high gear. The cop within was already honing in on the obvious details of the woman's features and clothing, and he immediately picked up on the idea there was something wrong with the way the woman looked to him. She was average height, maybe in her mid-fifties, with a line of black roots beneath an otherwise gray head.

"Kari is in the bedroom getting dressed. I can tell her you're waiting… Miss…?"

"You don't recognize me, do you?" the woman asked him; her voice sounded frightened.

Being a man who was very good at connecting a name to a face, Robert was surprised at being baffled.

"No… I'm afraid I don't. Would you like to come in?"

The woman looked over her shoulder and another man stepped into view from the hallway. This man was immediately recognizable to the detective. He had performed a mock interview with him the day after his visit to Sally Carmichael's apartment.

"Mr. Dodge?"

"Hello Detective. We didn't expect to see you here, but it's vital we speak to Kari." Ethan Dodge stepped through the door and reached back to escort the woman across the threshold, and it was then that Robert finally recognized her.

"Jesus Christ! Mrs. Carmichael?"

Sally stepped into the room behind Ethan, looking nervous and scared. She nodded.

Robert now understood what he saw was wrong with the woman when he first opened the door. Her manner of dress far outdated the woman now standing before him. Sally Carmichael looked at least ten years younger than when he last saw her. Her face was clear of the normal blemishes that came with one her age, and her skin looked… well… almost radiant. If not for the fear displayed on woman's face, he would have even said she looked beautiful.

"Who is it, Robert?"

Kari stepped into the room in her bathrobe, still drying her hair with a towel. She stopped when she saw Ethan and Sally standing in her living room.

"Oh my God. Sally? Is that… you?" Kari said, dropping the wet towel onto her bare feet.

"Kari. Oh thank goodness you were home. You have to help me. Something is terribly wrong..." Sally's voice stumbled. "I don't understand what's happening to me, but as you can plainly see… I'm changing."

Kari's eyes were wide with shock, her jaw limp. She barely recognized her friend as the woman she last saw two weeks earlier. Kari quickly came forward.

"What's happened to… to your face?" Kari managed to say unthinkingly. "You look so much… younger."

"I know. It's been happening ever since I got out of the hospital. It's been little things up to a few days ago. But now… it seems to be accelerating. Kari… I'm scared."

Kari was backing away from her. "Let me get my… my stuff… I need… to take your vitals." She bumped into a table behind her, unable to take her eyes off of her friend's face. She finally turned and headed into the bedroom.

"Please, would you like to sit?" Robert offered. He looked lost for words, but as Sally apprehensively made her way to the nearest chair the detective asked her, "Have you noticed any other changes… besides the way you look, I mean?"

"Well… I don't have my usual aches and pains," she answered apprehensively, "and my eyesight and hearing are much improved. And, of course, my hair is growing back in its original color. I'm losing my gray. I guess… I shouldn't complain, but… it scares me not knowing what's happening to me."

"Sure, I can understand that." Robert looked at Ethan. "And you? Have you noticed any changes in her? I mean… besides the obvious physical ones?"

Ethan looked at Sally and then to Robert again. "I would have to say — yes. But you have to understand; I haven't known Sally very long — nowhere near as long as Kari. But in the short period of time we've shared together, I believe I've seen a dramatic change in her mental sharpness. Her critical thinking is much improved, and our discussions have become much deeper academically than when we first met."

Kari returned to stop dead in her tracks when she saw Sally again. "It's amazing," she sighed.

She then quickly came forward to sit next to her friend on the couch. "Take off your coat, Sal. Let's start with your blood pressure."

A few minutes later, Kari was pulling her stethoscope away from her neck. "Well, everything sounds okay. Your heart seems stronger — I can't hear your murmur anymore. Your blood pressure is normal too… better than normal… it's perfect. You might want to lay off the _Benicar_ until..."

"I've stopped taking all of my meds," Sally said, cutting her off. "I'm not going to take another pill until I understand what's happening to me."

Kari frowned and then considered Sally's logic. Ethan was right; she _was_ much sharper. "I guess that's smart." Kari stood. "Come with me into the bedroom. I want to do a physical exam."

Absent of the normal groans and stalls that usually made the nurse reach out to help her friend straighten, Kari was surprised at how quickly Sally got to her feet.

"Lead the way." Sally demanded.

"Robert, can you make us some coffee? This might take a while."

As Kari and Sally disappeared around the corner, Ethan followed Robert into the kitchen.

"You take it black?"

"No… in fact, I don't drink coffee. Thanks anyway."

Robert put the mug he had pulled down from the cupboard back on the shelf.

"I could make some tea, I guess."

"No — nothing. Really — I'm fine."

Robert looked at the man. He could plainly see Ethan was worried for his friend.

"Listen, whatever this is… I'm sure the doctors will figure it out." The detective turned to refill his own cup from the pot. "In fact, I have to say… Sally really looks fantastic." He turned to face Ethan more squarely. "If her hair changes into that auburn color through and through, she won't look a whole lot older than you."

Ethan was shaking his head when he looked up. "I'm sure you've seen a lot of things in your line of work, detective…"

"Call me Robert."

Ethan flinched a quick smile and then added, "Have you ever heard of anything like this happening before?"

Robert set his cup down on the counter to think. "No, I haven't. And you're right. I've seen a lot of things in my time, but nothing like this." He gripped his cup again, but didn't pick it up.

"What about you? You've been around the block a few times in your line of business, and you've probably been to more countries in the last year than I've seen in my entire life. Have you ever seen anything like this?"

Ethan was quick to respond, and it explained his obvious fear. "No… I haven't." He then shrugged. "I dated a Chinese woman once who swore by acupuncture. She said it improved the circulation in her face, and something she called micro-current stimulation." He frowned. "Something about re-educating the muscles in the face, but that was a farce."

"Didn't work, ay?"

Ethan didn't answer.

"Well, like I said. The docs will have to check her out, but whatever's doing this is going to be big news."

"What do you mean?"

Robert took another sip from his cup. "Sally is… what… ninety-plus, right?"

"Yeah — ninety-three."

Robert shook his head. "Even if they stop whatever's doing this do her, she's not ninety-three anymore. Mid-fifties… maybe. When word gets out about this, she's going to have commercial endorsements coming out her ears." The detective laughed. "She's going to make Diane Sawyer and Jessica Walter look like old ladies."

Ethan wasn't amused. "You think this is funny?"

The detective's face fell. "Look, I know you're frightened for Sally, but it's been my experience it's always best to get all the facts before you start thinking the worse."

"But what if it doesn't stop?"

"What doesn't stop?"

"Whatever it is that's doing this to her. What if she just keeps… you know… getting younger?"

Robert thought about it. "Wouldn't that be a good thing? I mean, who wants to be ninety when you can be twenty?"

Ethan looked horrified. "But if it does go that far, what's to stop it from taking her to ten, to two, to being a baby again? And what comes after that?"

Robert was surprised the man in front of him had taken his thoughts so far. He could see Ethan was beginning to panic.

"You need to calm down, Ethan. I think you're blowing this way out of proportion. We both know it's probably an erroneous mix of some of her medicines. They've probably stumbled on something they didn't expect in chemistry class, that's all. Maybe that - together with something in her body, maybe her DNA, I don't know. It's most likely they'll figure all of this out in just a couple of days and then she'll be back to her old self."

"Very funny."

"Christ, you know what I mean. You need to get a grip on yourself!"

Robert turned to pull a cup down from the cupboard and filled it from the coffee pot.

"I said I didn't want any."

Robert opened the next cupboard and yanked down a bottle of whisky. He spun the top off and splashed some of the amber fluid into the cup with the coffee. He turned and set it down in front of Ethan.

"Have some anyway."

Ethan looked surprised.

"Look, Ethan. I don't mean to make light of the situation here, but that's what a cop does. When you see the things I see each and every day, you have to find a way to think positive. You can't go around expecting the worst in everything. If we did that all the time, then better cops than me would end up eating their guns. Wait for the facts to come in; that's all I'm saying. See what the doctors have to say, discuss it with Sally, and then weigh your options. That's all you can really do anyway, right?"

He grabbed the whisky to splash his own coffee before raising his cup; he motioned a salute to Ethan before taking a drink.

Although Ethan didn't appear any less concerned, he did seem to understand the logic Robert was offering him. He picked up his coffee and took a sip. It burned his throat and the detective chuckled.

"Smooth, ay? Picked it up last week when Kari and I were vacationing together."

Ethan took another drink and set the cup down. "So… you and Kari…?"

Robert took another drink from his own cup and smiled. "Yeah — we were an item a while back, and I ran into her again while I was investigating those break-ins around your shop. Turns out she knows Sally. Small world, huh?"

"Yeah… small… strange world."

"We're going to the hospital," hollered a voice from the next room.

The men headed back to find Kari's head still wet, but she was fully dressed. Sally was already putting her coat back on.

"Is everything okay?" Ethan sounded very worried.

"Well, I gave Sal a quick once over and it's clear her whole body is following the same pattern. She's definitively getting younger. I don't know why, but we're going over to have the doctors take a look at her. I've already called it in."

Kari headed into the kitchen. "Can one of you go to Sally's apartment and gather up all her meds and bring them to the hospital for us? Her place is the other way and I don't want to backtrack before getting her over to the hospital."

"I'll do it," Ethan said eagerly. "I'll need your keys, Sally."

Robert followed Kari into the kitchen. "Listen, I'm due in at the precinct in another hour. Why don't you call me when you know something?"

Kari went to dump the coffee cups when she caught a whiff. She raised Robert's cup to her nose and frowned back at him.

He smiled and shrugged innocently.

Kari grinned, took a drink from the cup, and then set it down in the sink. She walked over and kissed him.

"I'll let you know what they say."

Twenty minutes later Ethan was entering hurriedly into Sally's apartment. The smell of the place seemed to welcome him with open arms and he couldn't help smiling at the subtle smell of blueberry muffins still lingering in the air. _To work_, he thought to himself in response, trying to remain focused on the urgent task at hand.

He quickly moved to the back of the apartment, looking for Sally's medicines. He wasn't surprised to find her bedroom immaculately kept - clean and tidy, and everything seemed to have a place for which it belonged. The bed was made and the pillows sitting in the chair near the windows were properly fluffed.

Ethan looked first to the dresser for the little white bottles he had taken Sally to pick up at the drugstore around the corner, but they were nowhere in sight. As he went about opening and closing several drawers under the mirror, he stopped suddenly when he saw something that surprised him sitting next to a cherub lamp. He carefully reached out and picked up a silver picture frame of Sally standing next to her deceased husband Sam.

Given the fact Ethan had never seen Sally's husband prior to that moment, one might have thought it probable it was the man in the photo who had gathered his attention, but the fact was Ethan barely noticed Sam at all. It was Sally's face he was studying. No doubt the image in the photo was several decades old, but as he inspected the picture closely, the face of the woman looking back shook him. This was Sally Carmichael forty years ago, and yet… it was also a picture of Sally Carmichael from twenty minutes ago, the same woman who was at that very moment rushing her way to the hospital with Kari Dietz.

"Jesus Christ…" the man whispered to himself. "She looks exactly the same." And it was at that exact moment when Ethan Dodge first realized how physically beautiful Sally was to him. He finally did notice the man standing next to her in the photo and couldn't stop himself. "You were a very lucky man, Samuel."

He carefully set the photo back down on the dresser, knowing with little doubt Sally would probably notice its askew departure from its proper resting place. He then noticed the second frame next to the first and slowly reached out to pick it up. The photo was of a young woman in her early twenties, posing somberly with her chin resting on the back of her hands. The writing in silver ink at the bottom said, '_To Mom and Dad, Love Mary_.'

"Mary Carmichael," Ethan whispered, gazing wonderingly at Sally's only daughter in the delicately woven frame. He remembered Sally telling him about Mary's death while at college and Sally's tears when she admitted that she almost ended her own life after they buried her.

As Ethan stared at the photo, he could see Sally's eyes looking back at him, the curve of her jaw and cheeks were the same, the color of her hair a beautiful strawberry blonde, and almost immediately, Ethan could hear Detective Coleman's words ringing in his ears.

_Who wants to be ninety when you can be twenty?_

He sat the picture back down again, but continued to glance up at the image of the young girl watching him as he rummaged through the rest of Sally's drawers.

"Bathroom!" Ethan said, bolting upright to straighten. He headed into the adjoining bath where he immediately found a note in beautiful, slanted script taped to the wall next to the mirror. It was a list of medicines, when to take them, dosages and refill dates. Ethan snatched the paper down and opened the medicine cabinet. And there they were, at least twenty little, white bottles in perfect rows, their labels turned out for clear inspection. He looked down to find a wastebasket sitting on the floor near to his feet with a clean and empty Wal-Mart bag as a liner. He snatched up the bag and began dropping the bottles inside.

A minute later, Ethan was crossing the foot of the bed toward the door when he stopped to look at the pictures on the dresser again. His eyes focused on Sally in the photo next to Sam and then to the picture of Mary again. Back and forth, his eyes moved between the two photos in wonderment before finally realizing Kari and Sally were waiting for him at the hospital. He headed for the front door.

As Ethan closed and relocked the door to the hallway outside, a man's voice sounded.

"Hold on there. What do you think you're doing?"

Ethan turned to find an elderly gentleman in a rumpled sweater glaring back at him.

"That's Sally Carmichael's apartment, and the police are on the way, sonny-boy."

"Oh, hello. I'm ah… a friend of Sally's and I was sent here to get something from her apartment." Ethan could immediately see the man's didn't believe this weak explanation. "Ah… you would be Mr. Hirch, correct?" The man looked surprised.

"Yes, that is correct. And I'm also one of Mrs. Carmichael's closest friends, so you can understand my questioning somebody going in and out of her apartment. My friend is a proper lady, and is not in the habit of allowing strangers into her flat."

Ethan almost laughed out loud. If Sally knew her nosey old neighbor was introducing himself as one of her "closest friends" he could only imagine her fit of rage.

"Oh, I'm not a stranger. I met Sally a couple of months ago in my bookstore around the corner."

The old man wasn't buying the line.

"Then you wouldn't mind my seeing some identification?"

Ethan hesitated; he needed to get to the hospital. "Well… I really need to…" Hirch raised an eyebrow at him. "Of course… here."

Ethan removed his wallet from his back pocket and handed it over to the man. Hirch opened it and peered down appraisingly at the photo on his license.

"Ethan Dodge?" He looked up again. "I don't remember Sally ever mentioning you."

"Listen, I have to get back to the hospital," Ethan said, reaching for his wallet again. "Sally is waiting for me."

The old man's eyes widened. "Hospital? Is she ill, don't tell me she's fallen again."

Ethan could see the concern in the man's eyes. He thought it rather sweet despite's Sally's terrible opinion of him.

"No nothing like that. We… really don't know what's the matter with her at the moment, but they wanted me to stop by and pick up her prescriptions. You see?" Ethan opened the Wal-Mart bag to show him.

"Well…" the man said, looking down at his license again. "I guess you don't really look like a drug addict." He handed his wallet back to him again. "What hospital is she in?"

"Mercy."

The man scoffed. "Mercy's full of idiots. I told them to call me if ever Sally needed anything."

"I have to get over there, but I'll tell her you were asking about her," Ethan said turning to leave.

Finally, the man seemed appeased. "You tell that wonderful lady that I'll be over there to check on her just as soon as they get her in a room, you hear me?"

Ethan almost laughed again. "I certainly will, Mr. Hirch, and thank you for your concern. I'm sure Sally appreciates it to," Ethan replied with a friendly wave as he opened the door outside.

"You just remember what I said about that hospital, boy."

Sally sat in a paper gown on an examination table looking troubled and worried. The room she was occupying at the hospital was very large, with several empty beds sitting with their headboards against the curved wall surrounding her. A team of three doctors and two nurses were standing twenty feet away in a circle conversing. Sally could almost hear them even as they tried to keep their voices low. They were talking about the many tests she had already taken over the last seven and a half hours since their arrival at the hospital. An older doctor was now suggesting another battery of tests, but the other two were shaking their heads in disagreement.

Sally finally smiled for the first time that day when she saw Kari walking toward her with a blanket.

"You look cold, Sal. I got you a cover."

"Bless you, child," Sally replied grandmotherly, eagerly reaching out for the blanket. "I'm so tired."

"Why don't you lie back? There's a pillow right there behind you."

"I'm afraid if I lie down, they'll want to keep me here longer." Sally looked at her friend. "They're not going to make me stay here tonight are they, Kari? I hate this place."

The girl helped Sally to lie back. "I really don't think so. From what I've heard them discussing so far, they can't seem to find anything wrong with you, so I doubt they'll be able to keep you here much longer."

After a long pause Sally spoke again. "What do you think is happening to me, Kari? Something is definitely wrong with me, right? This isn't supposed to happen."

Kari moved in next to her friend and smoothed Sally's hair. She could see the reddish-blonde roots about a half inch thick under her gray. She frowned. She only just saw Sally ten days earlier. _How could her hair have grown out so fast?_

"I don't know, Sal. I think you've got them all a little baffled here." She tried to smile to conceal her own worries. "Your hair is really coming in nicely. It's a beautiful color. Was it this color when you were younger?"

Sally smiled up at her again. "Yes, Auburn; Sam used to call it strawberry blonde."

Kari leaned in to kiss her friend on the cheek. "Well I'm jealous, that's for sure."

"I think it's growing faster too," Sally informed her, looking worried again. "It's strange."

"Mrs. Carmichael?"

Sally bolted upright and looked to the other side of the bed. She could see another doctor approaching them; this one was familiar to her.

"It's ah… very nice to see you again," the man said appraisingly.

"Hello Doctor Hoffman." It was the doctor who had saved her life when her heart stopped. Sally took a deep breath. That seemed ages ago.

The man smiled strangely at her. "Well — I see your memory is as good as ever. I must say you look absolutely wonderful." He glanced back at the group of doctors who had stopped conversing to watch them.

"The doctors handling your case asked me to come in and… ah… take a look at you. Since I was the doctor assigned to you before your last release, they wanted my opinion of your physical condition." He stared again at her in a manner that told Sally he was evaluating her every reaction, her every word.

"Do you remember any of our conversations the last time you were here?" Hoffman asked her.

Sally frowned. "I… don't understand what you mean."

"Anything at all; do you remember anything we might have said or discussed when we were last together here at Mercy?"

Sally looked over at Kari, who seemed just as curious about the question. _Maybe it was a memory test._

"Well… I remember you saying I was the most remarkable patient you've ever had in your care. You said you wanted me to share my secrets of longevity with you."

The man's eyes widened; he seemed genuinely taken aback. "My God, it really is you! Sally Carmichael?"

Sally was at first confused and then the reality of the situation suddenly hit her. She immediately moved to swing her legs over the side of the bed with such speed it took everybody in the room by surprise.

"Kari — take me home," Sally said angrily.

Kari came forward quickly, but Sally was already on her bare feet and looking around.

"Where are my clothes? I want you to take me home — now!"

"Sal… what are you doing? What's the matter?"

Doctor Hoffman didn't move, but several of the other doctors immediately came forward.

"Uh… Mrs. Carmichael, where are you going? We still need to wait for a few more tests results. It won't be that much longer. Please, we need you to stay."

Sally was incensed. She whirled about to scowl at Hoffman.

"I'm not here to play some practical joke on you, doctor; I wasn't lying when I told you and these _other_ doctors who I am and why I've come back here. My name is Sally Carmichael; I was a patient here two months ago; I thought I was dying. You were the one who restarted my heart," she said, pointing an accusatory finger at Hoffman. She looked around. "You came in my room every morning to check on me," she said to another doctor. "And you were the nurse who pulled the tube out of my throat," she said, pointing at the respiratory nurse who was standing to the back.

Kari now looked angry as well as she scowled back at the team. "I don't believe this. You thought I was lying to you about Sally? You think I'm in on some kind of stupid joke?" She looked indignant. "Have any of you known me to joke about one of my patients?" One of the nurses came forward looking apologetic, but Kari was infuriated. "How dare you!"

Kari walked back to Sally. "This is Sally Carmichael. She's one of my very dearest friends, and she's both confused and worried about her health and what's been happening to her. This isn't a joke. I told you she came in here three months ago with congenital heart failure and was eventually released. Since that time, she seems to be getting younger." She looked around at the confused faces staring back at her. "What the hell is wrong with you people?"

Finally, it was Hoffman who answered. "I'm… very sorry, Sally… but I…"

"That's Mrs. Carmichael to you, sir," Sally snapped back at him. "I never gave you permission to call me familiar, and with your attitude… I doubt you will ever be allowed the privilege."

"That's Sally, all right," a voice interrupted from behind them. Sally and Kari turned to find Bea Jenkins and Lisa Bonds standing inside the room smiling at them.

Kari seemed relieved as her friends came forward.

"Hello, Sal," Lisa cooed kindly. "It's wonderful to see you again."

"My God," Bea was shaking her head disbelievingly as she leaned in to look closely at Sally's face. "When Kari called to tell us what happened, it was hard to believe… but seeing is believing, I guess." She looked up at the other doctors. "This is definitely Sally Carmichael."

"Thank you, dear," Sally answered resentfully, scowling back again at Hoffman.

Hoffman turned again to the other doctors. "Let's go over those tests again, and I want somebody down in the lab kicking them hard in the ass for those remaining results. Tell them I want them down here in thirty minutes or I'll have their jobs." One of the nurses ran out of the room as Hoffman turned to Sally.

"Mrs. Carmichael. I can only beg for your forgiveness. In this job, a man as old as me thinks he's seen just about everything, but obviously I was wrong. If you'll agree to stay, I will personally guarantee my full attention and that of my staff on your case."

Sally looked at Kari who was still staring unblinkingly at Hoffman. She finally turned to her and shrugged.

"Please Mrs. Carmichael. Let us begin again with all due diligence."

Sally still seemed unconvinced but… "Very well, doctor, but I won't have anybody questioning my motives or who I am again. Are we agreed?"

"Absolutely. Yes ma'am."

Sally lay down on the bed again and Kari leaned over to wrap her in a blanket.

"Freakin' doctors," Kari whispered next to her friend's ear. She looked back at Hoffman who was now huddled close with the others on the other side of the room. "They think _you're_ old," Kari continued. "They say Hoffman worked at Mount Sinai for a while… unfortunately I think it was with Moses."

73


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9d03

Chapter 9 (Draft 03)

"Hello?"

"Doctor Howard, I have a call from a woman who says she's your niece. Shall I put her through?"

"Of course. Thank you, Susan."

"Uncle Glad? Hi it's Kari."

"Kari… this is a surprise." Howard happily pulled up the chair behind his desk to sit. "Where have you been keeping yourself? Your mother told me you were on vacation."

From her cell phone outside of Mercy Center Kari Dietz was frowning.

"She told you that, did she? So what else did she say?"

"Now - now, don't get yourself all boiled up. I was asking about you… she didn't volunteer anything. She did tell me you were dating that handsome detective again. How is Robert?"

Kari tutted into the phone. "She can't keep her big mouth shut to save her life."

"Careful there… that's still my sister you're reproving." The man was grinning through the silence. "Does that mean you and Robert are not together again?"

There was another pause. "Yes… we've been seeing each other."

"So… what's the problem? You trying to keep your love life a secret from your favorite uncle?"

Kari finally smiled. "That's impossible, especially with my busy-body mother always banging on the tracks about everything."

"Only for those willing to put their ear down to listen, I should think," Howard replied. "So how is Robert these days? I always liked him."

"He's good. Listen… I hate to be short, especially since we haven't talked in a while, but I have a friend here at Mercy that I think could use your help."

"Really? Is this friend a patient?"

"Her name is Sally Carmichael, and yes… she's been a patient here a few times."

Twenty minutes later, Doctor Howard was flipping over his third page of notes.

"And you say all of the tests have been inconclusive, nothing unusual at all?"

"Yes… everything seems normal, and Sally looks great, but as you can imagine… this is very concerning to us. She puts up a brave front, but I can tell… she's really scared."

Howard finally leaned back. "I don't know her doctor — who is it again? Hoffman, you say? Do you think he'd be willing to take my call to consult?"

"Oh Uncle Glad, I'm sure he will. When I mentioned to him that I knew you and your research on aging might be helpful in Sally's case, he was very open to discussing their findings with you if I could set up the call. Frankly… I think they're kind of stumped here, and I know they'll want to keep Sally in this hospital indefinitely until they understand what's happening to her, but Sally isn't going to stand for that. We have to come up with something tangible if we ask her to stay longer."

"All right. Let me see what I can do to clear my calendar for tomorrow and I'll drive in. Do you think you can keep Ms. Carmichael at Mercy for another night if she knows I'm coming in to look at her?"

"I don't know. I hope so. I'll try and convince her it's important."

"Good. Well, I'd better let you go if I'm going to ask Susan to rearrange my calendar before she leaves this evening. Maybe we do lunch tomorrow… this case permitting, of course."

"Oh Glad, you're a sweetheart. Of course; it'll be great seeing you again."

"So be it. I'll see you tomorrow. My best to Robert… and of course to your mother."

Doctor Howard hung up and then immediately picked up the receiver again. He pushed a second button and listened for the expected buzz and click.

"Susan… can you check my calendar for tomorrow? I'd like to…"

"Hello… Doctor Howard."

Howard was immediately cut short. "Excuse me? I'm sorry, I must have hit the wrong…"

"No, your phone is working properly, doctor. Do you know who this is?"

Howard paused and then almost yelped out loud as he jumped to his feet.

"Mr. Bezuhov? I'm sorry, sir, have you been holding for me? Had I known…"

"You would have… what… hung up with your niece, Miss Kari Dietz? I hope not; I think that would have been rather rude of you."

Howard gulped and then slowly lowered himself to sit again. The chilling sensation of gnarled, old fingers grasping the back of his neck made him shiver, and the returning feeling he was being watched began to sweep over him once more.

"How did you know…?"

"Doctor Howard… it is imperative that you keep that appointment with your niece tomorrow. The Sally Carmichael case has become something of an interest to me, and thus… I should expect it would be important to you as well."

The doctor frowned. Once again, Howard was allowing his mutinous pride to invade his reply.

"I'll have to check with my secretary to see if I can clear my schedule…"

"I've already done that for you, Doctor."

"Excuse me?"

"Your secretary was more than willing to clear your entire day when I told her who I was and asked to see you tomorrow. My apologies to your Mrs. Miller for the pretense, doctor, but I did it so you could meet with your niece as requested."

"But why? Do you know this woman, this… Mrs. Carmichael?"

"Only by the case notes sent to me within the last twenty four hours. She's created something of a stir with the senior staff at Mercy Center Hospital there in Seattle, but I'm afraid her fifteen minutes of fame will have to wait. I won't allow her to leave the hospital until you've had a chance to examine her thoroughly and report your findings back to me."

"You won't allow…? Are you saying you can keep her…?"

"Doctor, I have some of the lab results for Mrs. Carmichael here in my hands," the man interrupted. "I'd like to share with you some very interesting findings… if I may."

Howard was alarmed, his thoughts racing._ My God — this poor woman is a prisoner at the hospital and she doesn't even know it._

"Doctor? Are you there?"

"Yes… yes, I'm here. The findings, you said?"

"Pay attention, doctor. I think this may be very important to our work. I had a second series of tests done on Mrs. Carmichael four hours ago. There are very high levels of the hormone klotho in her bloodstream."

Howard was somewhat surprised by this news. "_High_ levels of Klotho, did you say?"

"That is correct, doctor."

"And what about her glucose levels? Are there any signs…?"

"Her glucose levels are nominal, no signs of diabetes, but I should think her insulin resistance would be rather high given these levels of klotho, wouldn't you agree?"

"Perhaps, yes. It would depend on a number of things. Would you have any data on allele frequency?"

"But of course, doctor… of course. Are you ready?"

Howard was already flipping the page over on his notepad. "Yes, go ahead please."

"I think it most significant to tell you about Marker 1 allele, and specifically allele seventeen: N equals ninety five, X equals fourteen, and P…"

Howard stopped writing to listen. "Yes? What is it?"

"Greater than zero point zero, zero, zero two, doctor."

"Point zero, zero, zero two? Are they sure about that?"

"I had them run the test again after seeing these initial results. They are indeed accurate."

"But… that's a level more prevalent in newborns. This woman, Sally Carmichael is…"

"Ninety three years old. Yes, interesting to be sure. Thus, Doctor Howard, my urging a change in your schedule for tomorrow. A quirk of fate has given us your niece who has allowed us easy access in a rare moment of legitimate consultation. The irony astounds even me."

"I'll want to rerun these tests again… just to be sure."

"I leave it in your capable hands, Doctor. But I will insist on a daily update in the usual way. Are we agreed?"

"Yes, sir. Of course."

"Very good. Farewell Doctor Howard and… good hunting."

There was a soft click in Howard's ear and then the buzz of a dial tone. As the doctor hung up the phone, he flipped his notes back to review his earlier conversation with Kari.

"Who is this woman?"

The next day, Sally was still in the hospital and more irritable about her situation than ever. Although Hoffman and the rest of the doctors did seem to be taking her case much more seriously, she still didn't seem to know anything more about what was happening to her than when she first let Kari talk her into returning to Mercy Center.

Adding to her frustration at being in the hospital again, Sally was having problems sleeping. To the point, she was dreaming about going home again, home to that dirt road connecting Stella to Shubert. She saw herself soaring over the grain swept hills of a planted Nebraska just before the harvest, her travels finally drawing her to Route 62. A disfiguring scar across the swaying fields of wheat, she followed the road with anticipation to the small and dilapidated house her father built before she was born.

But every time Sally tried to land, strangers unknown to her would run out of the house to shoo her away. They waved their hands and bed sheets, welcoming her arrival with tattered brooms and pitchforks, like an old crow looking to steal their labor.

"Go away, there's no room!"

She tried to yell back at them, to tell them she belonged there, that this was her father's house. She called to her father and mother, she cawed for her brothers to help her, but they would not come.

"Shoo, you old thing! There's no place for you here."

"Go away!"

Sally jerked awake, tired more than when she first closed her eyes, dripping with sweat and exhaustion. Even when she tried to remain conscious, the meaning of the dream would always trouble her weary mind, and the moment she closed her eyes again she found herself soaring over those swaying fields, following that dusty road.

"Sally — I have somebody here I'd like you to meet"

Sally's was yanked away from the fight outside her father's house again, and one of the faces swinging a broom began to change as the voice become recognizable to her.

"Sally — a wake up."

Sally's eyes flew open again with a raspy, "Caw!"

Kari was standing over her, looking serene.

"Sorry for startling you, Sal, but I have to give you your meds."

Sally immediately sat up with a quickness that startled Kari once more. The nurse still wasn't use to seeing Sally Carmichael move so fast.

"Whoa — whoa, easy now."

Sally frowned. "Oh, stop your fussing, child. I'm fine. How would you react at being poked out of a solid sleep? _Solid sleep_, Sally thought. _Where are these lies coming from?_

"Is it time to go home yet? Do they know anything?"

Kari forced a smile. "Not yet, Sal. There's somebody here I wanted you to meet. Remember I said I was going to contact my Uncle Howard about your case? Well he's driven into town to see you."

Sally looked around and saw a man in his mid fifties standing behind her friend, wearing a three-piece suit and holding a stethoscope.

"Sal this wonderful man in my favorite Uncle… Doctor Gladwin Howard." She turned to present the man with a wanting gesture of building pride.

Doctor Howard did not come forward. He was staring with the same astonished wonder he was startled with at first entering the room to look upon Sally's face. The woman sitting up in the bed before him looked younger than himself and yet, according to the medical records he had already spent nearly two hours inspecting, she was more than ninety.

"Uncle Glad?"

The man was startled again and then quickly came forward. "My apologies, madam, but…"

"I'm much younger than I should be," Sally cut in. "Yes, no doubt the doctors here at Mercy have already informed you of this fact, sir."

Howard was barely listening. He was already going through all of the test results again in his mind. Now that he had seen the woman, he was questioning the validity of everything given to him by the hospital's staff. He unconsciously removed the binder from its place at the foot of the bed.

Sally looked incredulous as she glared back at Kari.

"Uncle Glad?"

The doctor, finally realizing his rudeness, tried to smile. "My apologies…" he said, as he opened the binder again.

"Yes… you already said that, doctor," Sally insisted appraisingly, as Howard moved to her bedside. He ignored her cynicism before tossing the binder uncaringly onto the bed below her feet.

"Mrs. Carmichael…" he started blandly. "How are doing with all of this? How do you feel?"

Sally jerked back, disbelieving the question.

"And before you answer… I don't mean just… physically." He leaned forward. "What are you thinking, regarding your condition right now?"

Sally glanced up at Kari, looking for something of a translation.

Howard could read her mind and came closer to add, "Are you excited about this opportunity?"

"Excited?" Sally returned hotly. "Most certainly not!"

"And why is that? According to every test result given me thus far, you seem to be in perfect health. Your heart and breathing are stronger, your electrolytes are… very nearly ideal. You look like a woman barely fifty years of age and, given your genetic disposition for longevity, it would appear you've been given an additional fifty years of life. Most of the people I meet in my line of work, Mrs. Carmichael, would consider this a gift from God." He could see Sally's glare darken so he quickly shifted his tone.

"But this might not be the situation in your case, and thus my question: What are you feeling about what's been happening to you?"

It was at that moment that Sally was suddenly surprised by the man's acumen, and she realized he wasn't as dense as she initially thought. It was the first time in nearly two days somebody tried to examine the most important part of her dilemma. How did she feel about getting younger?

Certainly there was fear; fear of the unknown, fear of the strangeness in all of it, the fear of not knowing if what was happening to her was going to leave her with her all-so-important dignity. In her mind, she really had two problems. The first was her concern if what was happening to her would ever stop. And the second, and the one thing that seemed most important above everything else, was wondering what she would do if it did stop, if she now found herself in a younger woman's body.

Sally had mentally prepared herself for the inevitable end to her life years ago. It wasn't that she was afraid of death; in fact she had a very strong sense of eternity that manifested itself in something of a lust filled need for the afterlife; the life she had planned for with the souls of her parents and brothers, with her beloved Mary… and of course with God. Life she had been told… was a test, and although she wasn't Job, Sally felt tested enough. Of course she had made many mistakes in her life, but she always endeavored to keep her honor and solemnity, and sacrificed much of her sanity to keep from being rude. In return, God was due to fulfill His promise to her, and she didn't want to believe His "gift of eternal life" was meant to be her continuing survival within the sinful and living world around her.

And in the end, that's what Sally feared the most: Was God's definition of eternal life just this? A continuation of what she already knew too well? It couldn't be; this certainly wasn't God's greater plan for her or anybody. This couldn't be His doing. People were still dying every day. Was their death meant to be permanent, the beginning of heaven's punishment? Were there other people like her, unknown to the rest of the world, now living some extended life… living forever? Was this all she should expect of God's promise? Was this what she had given her life to reap in the end, just… more of the same? And what if in this second life Sally wasn't so willing to refrain from sin? Would she then simply die, just like everybody else, and enter into hell's waiting arms all the same? Would that mean everybody ended up burning with Caligula and Hitler, with the _Hentai _and Judas_?_

Sally looked at Kari's uncle who had revealed the blessing of patience, but he still seemed anxious for a reply. She took a deep breath and answered. "I'm disappointed."

The man leaned back clearly intrigued, but to Sally's great surprise he did not ask her to clarify the summary of thoughts now coursing through her brain.

Ethan was on the phone.

"Hello, Robert? Hi — it's Ethan Dodge. Kari wanted me to give you a quick call this morning since she's already in consultation with her Uncle.

"No… I'm afraid I don't have anything new to report since yesterday. Sally is still here and they're still doing a lot of tests. Kari is hoping her Uncle will find something more conclusive. She said she'd call you tonight with a better update.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I got home kind of late, but I slept; Laura is watching the store for me. Thanks for asking.

"Okay… I will. You're welcome.

Ethan closed his cell and dropped it into his coat pocket. He lied to Robert Coleman about sleeping. The fact was he had slept very little in the two days since Sally's arrival at Mercy, and he was sure she was a long way from going home as he approached the hospital's elevators again. There had been so many tests done, and yet… the doctors couldn't tell them anything about what was happening to his friend.

Ethan looked down at the book he was carrying: a 1901 first edition of _The Tale of Peter Rabbit_ by Beatrix Potter. He smiled at the book's cover as the elevator closed with a thump. Sally had experienced something of a craving for fresh carrots recently. Although this is what first brought the book into his worried mind, it was Peter Rabbit's rebelliousness that Ethan hoped to reinforce in Sally's disposition. He was sure she would appreciate his efforts to align himself with her frustrations. He opened his bag and moved his laptop aside to check he had remembered the carrots. He smiled again.

The elevator stopped to open and Ethan only glanced up briefly to see he still had six floors go. It wasn't until an enormous shadow blocked all the light that he noticed the two men standing with their backs to him. He immediately thought they looked strange. They were dressed exactly alike, in black suits and mirrored shoes that reflected the texture in the linoleum perfectly under their feet. Ethan looked up and could see a small coil of wire tucked behind the larger man's left ear. He casually stepped to the right, which didn't go unnoticed by the man who looked back to frown at him. Ethan tried to seem indifferent.

The man turned to face forward again and then leaned slightly to the right to mumble down to the other man next to him. The language was easily distinguishable from most others.

_Russian Spetznaz_, Ethan thought with a grin, letting his imagination entertain itself with thoughts of Christian _undesirables _hiding in Moscow's basements. He glanced up to peer at the right man's ear. Sure enough, another coiled wire was neatly tucked behind his helix. The man on the right began to whisper something back to the other. Softly at first, he shook his head derisively before saying one word that Ethan was surprised he recognized.

"**Охрана**_Carmichael_."

The doors suddenly opened again.

Stunned, Ethan could barely speak. "Excuse me," he said softly, forgetting to expel the frown on his face.

The two men glared back to scan over him before parting to let him pass. He barely made it out before the elevators began to close again, and he could hear one of the men slam at the buttons behind him. Ethan looked back and watched the doors open again, and the two men stepping together through the opening. They barely seemed to fit through the gap.

Nonchalant, Ethan headed for the open gap in the hall he knew was the visiting area and quickly ducked inside. He found a seat among some children playing on the floor and then opened his briefcase to grab his laptop.

**_Охрана… Охрана… Охрана… Охрана. _**

**Ethan repeated the word over and over in his mind as he flipped open his computer and hit the power button. He had plainly heard one of the men in the elevator mention Sally's last name and he was desperate to understand what the other word meant — ****_Охрана._**

**As his laptop started to come to life, he reached down to place Peter Rabbit carefully in his bag. The men in black were standing outside the door talking to reach other, the shorter of the two motioning the other into the room before disappearing around the corner. The larger man then stepped into the visitor's room, looking somewhat exasperated as he fell into a seat.**

**The laptop beeped and Ethan quickly started typing. He opened his browser before looking up into the corner of the room. He could see a wireless router bolted to the ceiling, its traffic lights blinking.**

**"Come on, come on," he whispered as he looked down at his screen.**

**CONNECTED**

**"Excellent!" Ethan quickly started typing again.**

**He banged out, ****English to Russian Dictionary. ****_Охрoна… Охрiна… Охрана_****.**

**He pushed return and waited again; eighteen million hits. He clicked on the top line. **

**Online English to Russian to English****, ****return again.**

**He typed ****_Охрана_****, hit return, and waited. The laptop beeped again and Ethan frowned. He slowly looked up at the man seated across the room who was watching with some disgust the children playing on the floor beneath his feet. Ethan looked at his screen again and then closed the lid. **

**"Guard Carmichael?" he said under his breath. ****_Why would these men be guarding her?_**

**He slowly set the computer into his bag, removed Peter Rabbit, and stood. He had a sudden wanting to know that Sally was safe. He glanced only casually down at the man sitting in the chair before reentering the hall and turning for Sally's room. He could see the other man at the far end of the hallway seated under a window. He was casually paging through a magazine in the morning sun, and Ethan was immediately struck with the image of Mr. McGregor, dressed in a black suit and tie, chasing Peter to make his pie. **

81


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10d04

Chapter 10 (Draft 04)

Ethan was happy with Sally's level of amusement.

"You brought Sally a children's book?" Kari asked him, looking at the old edition of Peter Rabbit. She looked at Sally who was still laughing. "I don't get it."

Sally was already hugging Ethan for the thought and understanding. "Thank you, Ethan. You are truly a wonderful friend."

"My dear lady, it pleases me to see you pleased." He took her by the hand. "There is a lady sweet and kind, Was never a face so pleased my mind," Ethan continued, and Sally blushed.

Kari looked at her uncle and rolled her eyes. "They have this poetry thing going on. It's kind of weird."

Doctor Howard only smiled, "Her gesture, motion, and her smiles, Her wit, her voice my heart beguiles, Beguiles my heart, I know not why," he mumbled softly, looking to finish Ethan's poem.

Kari was surprised. "Oh God… not you too," she whispered.

Her uncle winked at her, and then he jerked his head toward Sally and Ethan together and then leaned over to whisper, "And yet… I'll love her till I die."

Kari smiled and then her face fell. She looked again at Sally and Ethan, and for the first time she saw something she never recognized before. And then, quite unexpectedly, she realized that what she saw had been there all along. The closeness, the tenderness she saw in their eyes; how could she have been so blind? Seeing the affection shared between them suddenly made her heart swell.

Kari finally stepped forward. "All right, you two, we have important things to discuss."

Detective Coleman was back at the West Precinct reading the evening paper, his feet propped casually on his desk.

"I thought you were going home?" said the uniformed sergeant, collecting the day's reports from the out-baskets.

"Catching up on the scores is all."

"Thought you'd want to get right back to that young thing you keep bragging about. What's his name again, Larry something?"

Robert smirked. "Kari… Kari Dietz. And you should be so lucky, you old-mutt. Nah… she's still looking after her friend at the hospital."

The sergeant handed a file to the detective. "Radio car took a call early this morning for a burglary on Seventh Street. Didn't you say your friend was living there?"

Robert took the file skeptically, but the address did look familiar to him. "42 Seventh Street, apartment 2A?" He immediately removed his notebook from his inside pocket and flipped it open to be sure. There it was; the address was the same. "This is Sally Carmichael's place."

"Oh sorry… not the boy friend, then?"

"Bite me, Lou. No — it's Kari's friend." He stood. "I'm gonna head over there."

"The place is secure and the patrol car is going to roll by there again tonight. It can wait 'til morning. I just wanted you to know about it."

Robert was already heading out the door.

"Okay… my best to Larry, then!"

"Give it a rest, Lou."

"Absolutely not!" Sally blistered.

"Sal, please… it makes a lot of sense," Kari replied. "We have to figure out what's happening, and Uncle Glad is willing to move us to the University to oversee your case personally. I think his team is much more qualified to treat your condition than anybody else in the world."

"Condition? Is that what we're calling this now? A condition? You make it sound like a case of dandruff. They don't have a clue what's really going on," she pointed at Kari's uncle, "do you?"

Howard took a reluctant breath. "Mrs. Carmichael, what you say is true, but I believe I can treat you more effectively where my entire staff and I can monitor you closely."

"Ethan… take me home."

Ethan Dodge looked at Kari and Howard. Clearly he was unsure what to do.

"Ethan… please."

Her friend straightened. "All right, Sally. If that's what you want; I'll tell the doctors you wish to be released."

"Ethan…" Kari moaned.

"Kari — Sally's right. You don't know anything more than what you did three days ago," Ethan argued back, "and Sally hasn't slept a wink since she's arrived here. If we get her home and comfortable maybe she'll finally get some rest, and then we can get on the phone together in the morning and discuss whatever steps are open to her."

Howard came forward. "Ethan, I know we haven't been able to pinpoint…"

"Talk to Sally — not me. She's the patient. I'm just here to support her." Ethan turned to Sally again. "I'll tell the doctors you're leaving and bring the car around."

"Thank you, Ethan." Sally scowled back at Kari and Howard. "Finally — somebody is listening to me."

Two hours later Ethan was heading for the parking garage. He spent the whole time privately arguing with Doctors Hoffman and Howard about Sally's decision to leave Mercy, but in the end they finally had to agree to sign her release. Ethan smirked. He had better hurry, because Sally wasn't in the mood for waiting around much longer. In fact he was fairly certain unless he was faster at getting the car around front, he might have to pick her up several blocks away.

Ethan stepped through the hospital doors and into the glass tube connecting the second floor to the parking garage. Although it was dark outside, the florescent lights running down the ramp reflected the rain battering on the archway overhead.

As he reached the doors on the other side, he found a closed elevator waiting him; he punched the up button and turned to gaze through the window and into the rain soaked night. He had never seen Sally so upset, not since the time she broke off their friendship over _East of the Sun and West of the Moon_. This time, however, Sally's seemed much more formable. He thought about Sally's rampage to leave Mercy. To say she was upset wouldn't accurately describe her behavior; she was downright adamant, unwilling to listen to anybody regardless of the questions still outstanding.

Ethan felt strange, unknown to himself when it came to Sally over the last few days. He saw her anger and frustration bloom into something almost beautiful in his eyes; her recaptured youth pushing her will forward like a bulldozer through wet straw. It made him smile, but he didn't really understand why. His friend had become fearless, almost fearsome, a big-leaguer swinging for the fences with her every word. The elevator doors finally opened and Ethan stepped inside. After traveling one floor, the elevator stopped to open once more, but nobody was waiting. They closed again and continued.

Sally said she was left to feel like prisoner in the hospital, and her feelings of being trapped were made worse since Kari's uncle had arrived. Sally had convinced herself Howard was doing everything he could to keep her locked within Mercy, running test after test and conferring the results with somebody on the phone. And try as he did, Ethan couldn't understand anything they were saying. There was talk about her hormones, markers and alleles, and something Howard called her clotho levels. Ethan tried looking the word up on his laptop, but couldn't find anything he thought made any sense.

The elevators stopped and opened again. Ethan frowned and stuck his head out; looking left and right, the flickering bulb in the stairwell only intermittently brightened the shadows.

"Hello? Anybody need the elevator?" He leaned back and hit the sixth floor button again.

Clotho, it turned out, was the youngest of the Moirae of Greek mythology, otherwise known as the Fates due to their roles in governing over the lives of humans. They controlled the metaphorical thread of life of every mortal from birth to death. It was Clotho who spun these threads of life with her distaff, a spear like device for spinning flax.

Once again, the elevator stopped to open, but nobody was there.

"If this keeps up, Sally will be halfway home before I can get to the car." He stabbed the button again.

Ethan didn't like Kari's Uncle Howard. He seemed overly excited about Sally's test results, but never offered any kind of explanation for his high spirits. And although he was very good at siding his ambitions according to Sally's temperament in the beginning, he was now completely self-absorbed in doing more tests.

The elevators opened and closed again.

He thought about the men in black. Ethan had seen them in and out all day before two more men arrived to join them a couple of hours ago, seemingly intent on taking over the night shift. Ethan wanted to believe he was mistaken when he heard them saying Sally's name earlier that morning. This was easy to assume since they never seemed all that interested in any of the patients or the medical staff at the hospital, but they did appear to add that sense of imprisonment to the Mercy décor that maddened Sally so much.

He saw Sally's anger blooming blissfully into his mind again. Her beauty and manner seemed way out of place for a jail. Ethan remembered a poem written by a man who spent thirty years in prison for a crime he didn't commit. In the poem he said, _The air lends itself not to the singer. The seasons creep by unseen. And spark no fresh fires. No birds are winging. The air is empty of laughter. And love? Why, love has flown. _Ethan smiled again at seeing Sally's enraged face. No, love hadn't flown entirely. The elevator finally opened to the sixth floor.

Ethan entered the stairwell and as he turned to open the garage door, he was immediately stuck in the back of the head. A bright light exploded inside his brain as his face slammed into the corner of the half-opened door. The metal of the door gave nothing back in response, as his forehead bounced and snapped back. His body crashed to the cement floor, hitting the same spot on the back of his head again. Semi-unconscious, Ethan was awake enough to feel the kicks to his groin and chest. Somebody was stomping his feet and arms; one of his hands was crushed. Finally the assault stopped and Ethan could feel a set of hands groping through his jacket pockets. He was grabbed by his collar and dragged back to the elevator, his shirt choking off what little air he could manage. There, he was rudely thrown to the floor again.

Ethan's eyes were fixed open, staring blankly at the mirrored shoes stepping around his head within the elevator. One of the shoes lifted to fall back and then came forward to kick him square in the face. His eyes were finally closed as his body rolled over to slam into wall, and the last thing Ethan Dodge heard before falling into blackness was the elevator door closing behind him.

Robert was knocking at the apartment door below to Sally's place.

"Yeah, yeah — all right. I'm coming," replied a voice from the other side. Robert removed his badge from his pocket as the door opened.

"Hello, Mr. Hirch?"

"Yeah?" The old man narrowed the gap in the door upon seeing Robert standing there. "Something I can do for you, sonny boy?"

"Detective Robert Coleman of the Seattle police department." He showed Hirch his badge.

"Oh… sorry about that, didn't know it was one of our men in blue? What can I do for you? Would you like to come in?"

"Thank you. I wanted to speak to you about the call you made this morning… about the apartment upstairs? You said you thought there was a burglar?"

"I don't think it was a burglar, I know it was — but I already called the police"

"Yes, sir, I know. It fact I have their report with me. I'm a member of the West Precinct Burglary Unit and we specialize in this kind of crime, so I thought I'd stop by and ask a few more questions. There were a few things I found interesting in the report that I wanted to follow up on." Robert opened a file to read.

"It says here you thought you heard a man walking around in the apartment upstairs? Is that what alerted you to call the police?"

"Actually there were two men in the apartment, and I knew Mrs. Carmichael was in the hospital at Mercy Center. She's been having some trouble with her health lately and I've been looking after her."

"Yes, sir. You said two men? But you didn't actually see them, and the report doesn't say why you thought there were two men."

"Oh I could hear them clear enough, stomping around up there and mumbling some foreign language I couldn't understand. I don't think they realized how thin these walls are, which told me all I needed to know about them. They weren't supposed to be up there."

"You told the police you thought they were speaking Russian? Do you know that for a fact?"

"Well, no… not for a fact, but I spent enough time drinking with the Ruskis outside of Berlin in forty-five to recognize the language well enough. That was before the Cold War, of course; I wouldn't have anything to do with those commie bastards now, of course."

Robert smiled. "Yes, sir. So the report says you went upstairs and knocked on the door?"

"That's right. Headed upstairs straight away. At first I thought the hospital forgot to call me to pick up Sally again. Ignorant fools did the same thing a few weeks ago when she was released, so I wasn't really sure if she was home again or not. But as soon as I knocked on the door, I knew something wasn't right."

"Why's that?"

"Because I could hear them shushing each other on the other side of the door, that's why. I called out to Mrs. Carmichael and told her it was me. If she were in there, she would have opened the door right away. We're very good friends, you see."

"Is it true you told the police you thought one of the men inside had a gun?"

"That's right. Like I said, the walls and doors are paper thin here and whoever was inside was trying their best to be quiet, but I know the sound of a nine-mil being chambered when I hear it."

Robert looked skeptical. "It's interesting that you would recognize such a sound. Do you… uh… own a gun, Mr. Hirch?"

The old man's eyes narrowed. "Sonny boy, the Second Amendment of the Constitution clearly states: A well-regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall NOT be infringed."

Robert smiled knowingly. "Yes sir, of course. And I believe, as you probably do, that the right to form a militia and to bear arms are not co-dependant of each other."

Hirch smiled back at him. "Good for you, boy, good for you. All these liberal-minded fools running around saying I shouldn't be allowed to own a gun unless I join a militia is a bunch of crap. Good to see Seattle's finest have a firm grasp of the situation."

"So you said you heard these men on the other side of the door with a weapon. What did you do then?"

"I told them straight out: Told them I knew Sally Carmichael and I was going to call the cops — that they were trespassing on private property. And that's when I heard one of them threaten me through the door. Told me to get lost or they'd kick my ass back to the Statue of Liberty.

"Well that was it. I wasn't gonna have a bunch commie-bustards telling me what to do in my own building. So I pounded at the door and told them to get the hell out of there. Lousy, two-bit commie sons-a-bitches weren't going to invade my friend's place, not if I'm around to stop it. They wouldn't come out, the low-brow cowards, but when I heard a second round chambered I decided to call you guys."

"And you never saw the men leave the apartment?"

"Nope. I have no idea how they got out. I was watching the street when I spoke to the police dispatcher, so I know they didn't leave on that side of the building. They must have gone out the back."

Robert was writing quickly in his notebook. "It says in the report you got the superintendent to open Mrs. Carmichael's apartment for the police. They seemed to believe everything was in its place, nothing stolen. In your opinion, was that the correct conclusion to make?"

Hirch stopped to think. "Yeah, I guess so. But then again they only had my word on it, so who really knows? We'll have to wait until Sally gets home to know for sure, I suppose. I wouldn't agree nothing was out of place though — don't know where they might have gotten that guff. Sally keeps a tidy place, but there were boxes removed from the closet and sitting on her bed. It looks like they were rooting through her private stuff, sons-of-bitches. Now we have to worry about red-pervs on top of everything else? What's the world coming to?"

Robert's cell phone was ringing.

"Excuse me, I need to take this. Hello…?"

"Robert?"

"Kari? What's wrong?"

"Robert, somebody attacked Ethan."

"What? Who did?"

"They don't know. They found him in one of the elevators in the garage. Robert — somebody beat him up pretty bad. Sally is beside herself."

"Jesus. Did they catch whoever it was?"

"No, they said they're going to check the video cameras to see if it'll tell them anything."

"Is Ethan all right?"

"No, Robert, he isn't. We know he has a concussion, but we think he might also have some internal injuries, maybe some broken ribs. They're taking the x-rays now."

"All right, I'm on my way."

"Thank you, Robert. Sally is a mess. They were getting ready to release her from the hospital and Ethan was on his way to get the car. Can you believe it? Sally says she isn't going anywhere now, not with Ethan in the hospital."

Robert stepped into the hallway. "Don't let Sally leave the hospital yet. She shouldn't be allowed to come home."

"Why not?"

"My precinct took a call today about a burglary in Sally's apartment. I'm here right now taking a statement from one of her neighbors, Mr. Hirch."

"What?"

"Sally shouldn't be allowed to go back to her apartment without an escort, not until we know more about what's going on here. Keep her there until I arrive, okay? I'll tell you more when I get there."

"Yeah, okay… I guess. I really don't think that's going to be a problem now though. Sally isn't going to leave Ethan this way."

"That's good. I'm on my way."

"Robert?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think is going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean Sally's been getting all of this attention, and then one of her best friends gets beat up, and now somebody is breaking into her apartment? What's happening?"

Robert thought about it. "I really don't know, but don't jump to any conclusions yet. I'll see you shortly."

"Okay."

Robert closed his phone and stepped back into Hirch's apartment. "I have another emergency. Thank you for speaking with me, Mr. Hirch. If you think of anything else, please give me a call." He handed the man his card.

"I'll do that, sonny boy. And thanks for coming out. I know Sally would appreciate it."

Robert was in the car a few minutes later speaking to his dispatcher.

"We just got the call, detective. We have a unit on its way to the hospital."

"Okay. I'm heading over there myself. I know the man who was attacked. Put me offline and at the hospital until the morning."

"You got it."

Twenty minutes later, Robert was reaching for Kari in the emergency room.

"Oh, Robert. It's terrible."

"How is he?"

She led him into a room and the detective saw Sally standing to the side of Ethan's bed who was unconscious under the blankets. She was holding his hand.

"I told you about the concussion," Kari said, "but we've also confirmed he has three broken ribs, two on his left side and one on his right. The bruising suggests he was kicked or punched on both sides."

"So let me get this straight: he's on his way to the garage to get the car and he's hit in the back of the head and then kicked in the ribs twice?"

"And at least once in the groin. There are bruises on the inside of his thighs and testicles."

Robert stood by Ethan's bed. There were bandages and straps of tape across the man's nose. "What happened to his face?"

"They broke his nose and the left zygomatic arch." Kari reached over to point to Ethan's left cheek. His face was very swollen and already yellowing.

"Why would anybody do such a thing?" Sally moaned, caressing Ethan's hand against her face. She looked up at Robert and even through her tears he was taken aback with her face.

It had been only three days since he last saw the woman, but in that short period of time she still looked younger than he remembered. While her hair was still gray, it was a least an inch longer, its darker roots much thicker at the scalp. Then he noticed her hands. Still clutching Ethan tight, her hands looked soft and supple, younger than the hand she looked to comfort and sooth.

"I don't know, Mrs. Carmichael." Robert looked back to a security guard standing near the door. "Let me speak to security. They might know something by now. Maybe they can tell me if they found something on video."

Ethan moaned and Sally immediately came forward.

"Ethan — dear. It's me; it's Sally. Can you hear me? Can you see me?"

Ethan Dodge opened his eyes to look at her. "Sally?"

"Yes, dear. It's your old friend." She started to whimper. "What have they done to you, you dear-sweet man?"

"Where…? Where am I?" He coughed and then winced.

"You're in the hospital, dear. You've been injured, but the doctors are taking good care of you and all your friends are here — Kari and Detective Coleman."

Ethan squeezed her hand. "And you," he whispered, closing his eyes again.

"Yes — yes, Ethan. I'm right here with you as well. Please tell me you're going to be all right, son. Please tell me."

He opened his eyes again. "I wish you wouldn't call me that."

Sally frowned. "Call you? Call you what?"

"I wish you wouldn't call me… son."

She smiled. "Of course… of course. Foolish of me, so very foolish." She kissed his hand again as he mumbled something she couldn't understand. "What-Ethan? What did you say?"

He opened his eyes again. "I said… I love you… Sally, I… love… you."

Kari looked at Sally and even in her friend's current state of worry and doubt she could see she was embarrassed. But there was something else Kari saw in Sally's face, something that betrayed her intent to set Ethan's words aside as nothing more than a man beaten beyond his good sense. It was a look of uncertainty, but also… of hope.

"The poor man… he's clearly out of sorts," Sally said softly, her eyes filling with tears again.

Kari smiled as she reached out to hug her friend. "No, Sal. We all know he really means it. If you didn't know it by now… you would be the only one."

Sally was surprised again, but immediately softened. She leaned back over Ethan to smooth his hair. "You'll get better, Ethan dear. Please say you will. I'm so worried about you… so very, very worried. You're saying the craziest things, you silly boy." She seemed to catch herself. "I mean… you brilliant, wonderful man." She took his hand in hers again and pressed it to her cheek. "Such a wonderful man."

89


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11d04

Chapter 11 (Draft 04)

Robert was given the videotapes from the hospital hallway, the garage and stairwells. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything to see and that really surprised the detective. At first he was impressed, because the surveillance coverage was rather good in all the areas of interest to him, but sadly, the video camera for the sixth floor wasn't working when Ethan was attacked. Speaking to the officers stationed in the security room where they monitor these areas, Robert found them already troubleshooting the problem with the sixth floor camera when he arrived to interview them.

The guard on duty insisted he was watching the monitors the moment camera B6C2 failed, which as it happened took place just a few minutes before the attack took place. The trouble was eventually found in the lower basement of the garage in a raceway feeding the stairwells, and when the final verdict came in on the cause of the problem, Robert was again surprised and very concerned.

The maintenance tech reported the line gong to B6C2 had been cut, probably with diagonal pliers. After reconnecting the feed, the camera was back and on line again. The cause of the camera's failure worried Robert more than the attack itself; it seemed to take the assault on Sally's friend outside the realm of his just being in the wrong place at the wrong time and made it look like an act that was carefully planned. _But why would anybody spend so much time and trouble to pick a lock on the access door and then find the exact video cable in which to cut?_ A simple thug wouldn't have cared enough to cover their crime, just a quick hit and run; a random victim, a fast bop on the head, the wallet taken, and gone. And the viciousness of the beating didn't make sense to Robert either. Perhaps if Ethan had put up a fight, but that didn't explain the video cable and the timing of its being cut.

Ethan was a mess. More than his concussion, broken ribs and sore groin, it would seem his attackers also broke both his left ankle and three bones in his left hand before finally taking his wallet and breaking his nose. The violence of the attack traveled quickly through the hospital, leaving its administrators scrambling to release the proper message to the public. Security was doubled in the tunnels and access levels in the garage, which to Robert was a joke. He knew these extra measures would quickly evaporate as the hospital started to feel the pinch of the extra expense and the public's concern waned.

Sally was completely dedicated to Ethan's recovery, of course. She was by his side during most of his examinations and protested little when Doctor Howard wanted to continue searching for the cause of her condition while she attended to his needs. The next day, Ethan seemed to be recovering well enough to speak to Robert and a hospital security team about the attack.

"How are you feeling today, Ethan?" Robert asked him. "With all of these pretty nurses running around and caring for you, that alone might be worth taking a broken nose."

Ethan's eyes where nearly swollen closed, but he was able to laugh a little anyway. Sally wasn't amused.

"Detective Coleman, that's not very funny. Ethan has been seriously injured. What is the police department doing to find the terrible person responsible for this assault?"

"We're interviewing all of the security staff within the hospital, Mrs. Carmichael. We're hoping somebody will remember something they didn't put in an individual reports in the hours before and after the attack. We're also looking for any patients or family members who might have left the hospital angry or upset last night. I assure you, we're tracking down every possibility."

"Well I should hope so. Attacking a good man like this, it's an abomination."

"Yes, ma'am."

Robert came around the other side of the bed. "Ethan, can you tell me anything about last night? Anything at all? Do you remember the attack?"

"No… I really don't," Ethan replied nasally. He gave a little winch as he shifted. "I honestly don't even remember leaving the hospital."

Sally looked concerned. "The doctors say his forgetfulness is probably due to the concussion. They say he may never remember the attack, God willing."

"Ah… well… that might be better for Ethan's mental state, but his inability to remember any details might hamper our finding the person who did this to him. What's the first thing you _do_ remember?"

Ethan took a deep breath, seemingly preparing himself for the pain to his ribs as he answered. "I don't remember anything until this morning. Sorry, but even now the things that happened less than an hour ago seem a little fuzzy to me."

Robert pitched back. "That's okay; completely understandable. You lay back and let this good lady take care of you," he said, motioning to Sally who was already mothering his blankets. "Can I get you anything?"

Ethan tried to smile. "I could sure go for some of that coffee you made for me at Kari's place."

Robert grinned. "I'll see what I can do. You get some rest."

Another patient was unexpectedly wheeled into the emergency room.

"We have a TA here!" called a paramedic squeezing a bulb over an injured man's face.

Immediately, every trauma doctor and nurse went to work on the man, wheeling his stretcher into the farthest corner away from Ethan's bed. Another woman, obviously the man's wife, was limping in behind him, holding a bloody gauze to her forehead and talking about the traffic accident that brought them to the hospital.

Ethan's eyes were wide with fright as he watched all the commotion.

"Jesus, what a mess. You want me to close the curtain?" Robert asked him.

Ethan was shaking his head and then he raised his uninjured hand to point at the woman who was now crying about the state of her husband.

"Ethan, dear… what's the matter?" Sally said caringly. "Detective — Ethan shouldn't be in here with all of these disturbances, he's still recovering from his own injuries. Close the curtain, please."

"No!" Ethan insisted. He was still pointing at the woman.

Robert was suspicious. He looked over at the woman and back to Sally's friend. "What is it, Ethan. What's the matter?"

Ethan tried to sit up in his bed, the pain in his ribs hardly considered as he pointed once more. "The shoes," he mumbled through his swollen lips.

Robert looked over at the woman again. She was carrying her husband's leather shoes in a clear plastic bad. The EMTs had obviously removed the man's wingtips and given them to his wife.

"The shoes? What about them?"

"Ethan — please lay back down, dear. You're going to hurt yourself. Detective Coleman, please tell him to…"

"The shoes!" Ethan said, jerking and pointing at the bag.

Robert watched the woman set the bag down on the floor, as she walked behind the curtain to join her husband. The detective looked around cautiously and then walked over to pick up the bag. He walked them back to Ethan who followed his every step with a look of building horror. Robert finally held them up in front of Ethan to see.

"Looks like Gucci," the detective said appraisingly.

Ethan's eyes were wide with fear. He slowly lay back on his pillow, never taking his eyes off the black shoes within the bag.

"What's the matter, Ethan?" Sally asked him worriedly. "What's so important about these…"

"He was wearing shiny shoes."

"Who was?"

"He kicked me in the face with them."

Robert frowned. "You mean the man that attacked you in the garage? Was he wearing shoes like these?"

Ethan was staring frightfully at the bag. "Yes, they both wore the same shoes."

"They did? Do you mean more than one person attacked you, and they both wore shoes like this? Is that what you're trying to say?"

Ethan nodded and looked at Sally. "Like the Russians."

Robert couldn't believe his ears. "The men who attacked you were Russian? Ethan, is that what you said?"

Ethan looked at him and nodded.

Twenty minutes later Ethan was able to piece what few memories he could manage for Sally and Robert. He told them about the men in the elevator who he believed were Russian and the fact that they were wearing the same kind of shoes as the man he remembered kicking him in the face. Ethan told them he was suspicious of them because they seemed to be talking about watching Sally while she was in the hospital.

One of the hospital security men who had been listening to Ethan's story stepped forward. "I think I remember the Russians. They've been in and out for the last couple of days."

Robert was surprised. "Did you ever speak to them?"

"Well I tried to, but their English was really terrible. They said they were here to observe our daily hospital procedures, which I thought was rather strange because they never left the third floor."

"You mean the floor Sally was on."

"I checked with administration, and they confirmed we might be seeing some foreign visitors overseeing our patient care procedures. I just assumed that's who they were. I would have checked them out a little more thoroughly had I seen them moving around a bit more, but they just stayed to the third floor."

"Are they still in the building?"

"I don't know. But now that you mentioned it, I don't know that I saw them last night at all. They were here around the clock in shifts, usually just sitting around and reading magazines. Didn't seem to me they were all that interested in learning anything about hospital procedures; I don't think they were here last night though."

"Can you check?"

"Sure." The guard headed for the door and then he stopped to turn. "You know, I think we caught some pictures of them on our hallway security monitors; pretty sure we did, in fact. If they're not in the building, I'll see if I can pull a few stills for you."

"That'd be great, thanks."

Kari entered the room again. "How ya feeling, Ethan? Headache still there?"

"I think it's getting a little better."

"They're going to move you to another room for one more night." She leaned in furtively. "If you had hurt yourself in a train wreak or something the bean counters would have already kicked you out of here. But what with the attack happening on hospital property, I think they want to try and care for you a bit longer than what's normal. Those belong to Ethan?" Kari asked, pointing at the bag of shoes.

Robert walked them over to the other side of the room and quietly set them back down where he found them. He could still hear the wife crying behind the curtain. In the few steps he had taken to cross the room and back, the detective was thinking again about Mr. Hirch and his story about the Russian burglars in Sally's apartment. Robert couldn't remember having a conversation about Russians more than twice in his entire life, and yet now we had these strange stories of Russians watching Sally, maybe attacking Ethan, and then breaking into Sally's apartment. He looked up and down the hallway. He wanted those security pictures.

"Sally, were you planning on staying here at the hospital with Ethan tonight?" Robert asked her.

"Yes — absolutely."

"Sally, you don't have to do that," Ethan protested. He coughed again. "You should go home and get some rest. I think you've been in the hospital long enough."

Kari quickly looked at Robert. "Didn't you tell her about the burglary?"

The next day Howard was on the phone again. "But Mr. Bezuhov, I don't think you understand. To apply these polymorphic microsatellite markers to the genes without the woman's permission is highly unethical. We can't do that."

"Doctor Howard… we have already demonstrated a significant difference in the selected marker allele frequencies between newborn and elderly individuals. These results led to our finding the variants of klotho. Our next steps are obvious."

Howard sat down on a window ledge overlooking the city. He knew his actions were coming to a crossroad.

"Doctor, we have complete linkage disequilibrium. The amino acid substitutions will cause no permanent damage."

"We can't know that, sir. The allele containing the six variants are…"

"Of no consequence to us now. Mrs. Carmichael's extraordinary genetic markup and response to your proven theory are paramount now."

"But sir, please, you have to know…"

"The double mutant exhibits an intermediate phenotype. Yes – I DO UNDERSTAND, doctor."

There was a pause and Howard was clearly afraid. His dealings with Bezuhov had gone too far, but worse than that was knowing his benefactor wanted more.

"Doctor Howard. You already know I am a man of great means and wealth. If it wasn't obvious to you before, then let me make it clear now. You and your team are not the only ones in the world working on this project for me. To put all of my faith in one man's vision of success would be foolish, and I cannot wait for the morals of one individual to fall in line with what has become the only means left for extending my life. With Mrs. Carmichael's introduction into our research, your team has immediately vaulted into the lead in finding the cure for this curse we call aging."

Howard was somewhat surprised. "I will admit, Sally Carmichael's case changes nearly everything we thought to be true, but what you're asking me to do goes against everything I claim to be as a healer."

"My dear doctor, what you claim to be is of no concern to me. What you _are_ is a man in my employ. We struck a bargain — and I intend to hold you to it. I'm not overpaying you to be safe, not at this stage of my life.

"You will reduce Mrs. Carmichael's level of _klotho, Doctor Howard. This is the next logical step in our study of her case. If you're unwilling to do this, then our partnership is at an end and I will have somebody else administer the drug in your absence."_

_"But our case studies with mice have shown the drug to cause run away _atherosclerosis and osteoporosis. My reports to you have proven this to be…"

"I've read your reports, doctor, but your commentary also said this did not happen in test subjects where klotho was present. This fact has pushed us both to the same conclusion: The membrane protein from the plant matter I gave to you does deter the on sloth of any aging deformities."

"Yes, it's true the mRNA expression was not detectable in any of the organs, but that doesn't mean it wasn't there."

There was another long pause.

"I am disappointed in you, Doctor Howard. You do not seem to grasp what Mrs. Carmichael has delivered to us. We have known for quite some time that klotho is regulating the cascading effects of aging. And somehow this woman is creating high levels of klotho complemented by no less than eight double mutant phenotypes under study in your lab. Your hypothesis that secretion is essential to klotho function is now out the window, doctor."

Howard was forced to agree.

"This only leaves us with one conclusion — that Mrs. Carmichael represents the next evolutionary step in the future of mankind. That makes her more valuable than all the gold in your Fort Knox."

Howard couldn't find a way to respond.

"Give her the injection, doctor. I'll expect your report on her condition and results in the morning."

"I… ah… yes, sir. I… will provide you with an update as soon as possible."

"Very good. Farewell, doctor."

"Oh — and sir?"

"Yes?"

"You wanted me to inform you about anything unusual happening at the hospital during Mrs. Carmichael's stay with us."

"Yes."

"Well, it would seem one of Mrs. Carmichael's friends was attacked in the hospital garage. The police say it was a simple robbery for cash, but…"

"Ah yes. And how is Mr. Dodge recovering?"

Howard was surprised. "You… you already knew about the incident, sir?"

"Yes."

"Oh… well… I didn't realize…"

"And his condition?"

"He's going to be fine, but he took a terrible beating. Several broken bones."

"And how is Mrs. Carmichael reacting to the incident?"

"She's very distraught, of course, which is why I thought you should know."

"Will her level of anxiety for her friend affect any of your test results?"

Howard paused again. _What a strange question._ "No… it should not."

"Very well; and I take it she's decided to stay with her friend in the hospital during his recovery?"

"In fact… she has. She hasn't left his side since yesterday."

"Good, this should give you the time you need to complete your final tests, yes?"

"Um, well yes. I suppose…"

"Very well. I'll expect your call tomorrow, doctor."

"Yes sir, Mr. Bezuhov. I'll speak with you again just as soon as Mrs. Carmichael's lab results are in." There was a click in his ear and then silence.

Howard slowly hung up the phone and turned to find Detective Coleman standing in the doorway.

"Oh, Robert! I… ah… didn't realize you were waiting for me."

"I wasn't, Glad. I just saw you on the phone and decided to stop. Could I have a word?"

"Yes… of course, come in. The office is on loan to me by the hospital staff; it's a little small but… would you like to sit?"

"I just need to ask you a few questions about Sally Carmichael."

Howard frowned. "Are you inquiring professionally or personally? If it's personal, I'm afraid I might be limited in what I can tell you. Matters of privacy, you understand."

"No, it's professional. Kari will fill me in on all the other stuff. It's my understanding you offered to move Sally to you facilities at the university. Why was that necessary?"

Howard raised an eyebrow.

"Sally told her friend Mr. Dodge about you wanting to move her. She seemed pretty upset about it."

"Yes, all right… an offer to join us at the university was extended to her. It was done so my staff could assist me more holistically in the search for the root cause of her condition, but I don't know why that would interest the police, Robert."

The detective seemed uneasy. "You know about the attack on Ethan, of course, on Mr. Dodge?"

"Yes… a terrible thing. I'm afraid it's shaken the hospital staff more than the public realizes."

"Yeah, I guess it would. Unfortunately, I also had to inform Sally that somebody broke into her apartment while she's been here in the hospital."

"Really? That's terrible. Was anything taken?"

"We don't think so. A neighbor was quick to call the police — no damage done. But it does make me wonder who else might know about Sally's situation here. Some of the doctors and nurses caring for her know, of course, and then there's Ethan, Kari, me… and then… there's you."

Howard reached back to sit in the chair behind the desk. "If you're asking me who I'm discussing her case with outside this hospital, Mrs. Carmichael has given me permission to share the details of our findings to my staff at the university."

"I'm going to need a list of their names, if you don't mind."

"Really? Is… is that really necessary?"

"You never know how people are going to react when they hear about a ninety three year old woman who's getting younger day by day. Given what's happened to her friend Ethan and the fact somebody has broken into her home, I'm concerned about the circle of people working with her and who they might be talking to."

"I can assure you, Robert, my staff knows better than to discuss a patient's case with anybody outside the university."

Robert nodded and then came around the desk to sit on its corner. "What about you? Have you been discussing Sally's case with anybody outside Mercy or your staff at the university?"

Howard looked surprised and then somewhat uneasy. He thought about the question a while before answering. "Robert, you should know I've always liked you. My niece means the world to me and so I've always been somewhat nosey about the men in her life since her father passed away some years ago. I've recently come to the conclusion that I like what I see in Kari since the two of you started dating and that fact has always made me appreciate you as a man… but what your insinuating hurts me, Robert. It truly does."

Robert's face darkened. While he always liked Kari's uncle, he was quick to notice the man didn't answer his question. He leaned back.

"Listen, Glad, I didn't mean to accuse you anything. I'm just trying to close all the loopholes where Sally's security might be in question. Know too that while I wasn't trying to eavesdrop when you were on the phone just now, I did hear you discussing Sally's case with someone you called… sir. Can you tell me who that was?" Howard looked surprised again.

"I think you must have misunderstood me, Robert. I didn't say 'sir', I said 'Sheil'. Sheil Sajid is a member of my team and I've been speaking to him at least twice a day about this case."

"Oh, I see. Sorry about that. It was just in passing, so I must have been mistaken about what you said. So… can I get that list, then?"

Howard still looked uncomfortable but relented. "Yes, of course."

"Thank you. Well… that was it. I know you're pretty busy with your day job and now with all of this, so I'll get out of your way. Kari really appreciates you looking out for Sally."

Howard finally smiled and then immediately used the opportunity to change the subject. "I do, but I must admit… I have my own selfish reasons for staying close to this case. It's absolutely remarkable what's happening to Mrs. Carmichael."

The detective sat back down on the corner of the desk again. "So… can you tell me… what _is_ happening to her?"

Howard whole body seemed to relax again. "I suppose I could give you the chemistry behind all of it, or at least what we understand it to be, but without going into all of that, I personally believe we're looking at something completely shattering in human evolution."

"All that, huh? Does that mean Sally will continue to get younger?"

"Undoubtedly."

"But… how far do you think it will go? I mean… is she on her way to becoming a child again?"

Howard shook his head. "There's no way of knowing without a complete understanding of the processes she's going though."

Robert surveyed the man. "This whole thing really makes you think, doesn't it?"

"About what?"

"You know, about life and death and what it all means."

"I'm not following you."

"Well… you being a doctor, a scientist and all — that makes you a practical man, right?"

"I'd like to think so, especially where science is concerned."

"So why do _you_ think death exists. I mean… you've got to be one of the world's foremost experts on the subject… why do we grow old and then eventually die?"

Howard looked somewhat troubled again and didn't immediately respond. He deliberated on the question for a while and when he finally answered it appeared to Robert that he had put a lot of thought into the subject.

"Like I said before, from a purely scientific point of view, I could explain what happens to the body when we age, how heredity and environmental factors eventually write out the end game for us all," Howard answered. "But I suppose the pertinent question here might be… why all of a sudden does death _not _exist for somebody like Sally Carmichael?" He paused again in a way that suggested to Robert he was stretching himself far beyond his practiced comfort zone.

For his part, Howard unpredictably found his mind reaching back to his childhood and to a time before the science of medicine had claimed him as one of its willing apostles. A picture of his alcoholic father came into his mind and then to himself as a young boy hiding in his closet with his books, the same books that transported him to the world outside all the yelling and the violence. Whenever Howard's mind replayed those days when he hoarded himself away from his father's drunken ranting, it always fascinated him to wonder what might have become of him had he taken a different book with him into that closet. He supposed it didn't really matter what he took from his mother's library when he went searching for solitude, but in his case it was a nurse's manual – _The Care and Treatment of Common Wounds_. His mother wasn't a nurse, so he never really understood why she would own a copy of such a book; maybe it was just her way of protecting her children from accidental injury; perhaps she expected her husband would someday hurt one of the three of them in some uncontrollable state of rage. Howard didn't really know.

The doctor's mind was then teleported to the old man wheezing through his clouded mask and those deadpan eyes staring up at him from out of his wing-backed chair. It was in that moment of diverse but connected thoughts that Howard came to a startling revelation. Bezuhov could just as well have been his own father if the drinking hadn't finally relieved his mother of the burden of the man decades before that moment. Howard looked to Robert again.

"Speaking _outside_ the realm of science," he continued, "it could be that death exits because God is protecting us."

Robert frowned. "Protecting us? I don't understand. How does killing us off… protect us? That doesn't make any sense."

"It would make a lot of sense if you believed in eternal life after death; then it would make all the sense in the world. Think about how it would be if Genghis Khan never died in the thirteenth century, or if Stalin continued to live another thousand years." He thought about Bezuhov and his father again. "God might be protecting us against such tyrants."

Robert smiled. "Tyrants come in many shapes and sizes, my friend. Some might say the Pope and Bill Gates are tyrants too."

Howard grinned back at him. "I think Bill Gates should be allowed to live forever just for the sake of the email I get from my kids while at college," he chuckled. "But can any of us really trust ourselves to know how the world might be in say… ten thousand years? I doubt it. Even the Pope might become a despot if he came to understand he'd never have to die and face God's judgment."

"So let me get this straight: you believe God limits our lifespan to ensure the human race isn't enslaved in some geopolitical or religious quagmire?"

"Why not? Do you like Dan Rather enough to watch him every night for the next ten thousand years?"

Robert laughed. "No thank you.

"So you think Sally might be changing all of this? But wouldn't her living forever allow her to escape the final judgment you just mentioned? I mean… my Sunday school teacher always told us to mind our ways for fear of God's wrath. How does letting us live longer fit into his master plan?"

Howard thought for a moment. "How do you know living longer _isn't_ part of God's wrath for us all? I doubt your Sunday school teacher would say the world today is what the Bible described as the Kingdom of God. No… I believe what we're seeing in Sally Carmichael is something truly unexpected; something different than what God intended for us."

"What?" Robert snapped, "but I thought it was God who planned everything? Wouldn't his strongest believers agree all of this has to somehow fit into his greater design?"

"I'm one of those men of which you speak, Robert. I'm a man who does believe in God's so-called greater plan for us all," Howard retorted. "However, I'm also a man who believes the Earth is much older than what the Bible tells us; I believe we did evolve from primates; I believe evolution did have a hand in where we started and where we find ourselves today. I know my opinion might run contrary to a lot of fundamentalist doctrine, but that's what I've come to believe. The Bible shouldn't be taken literally, but I do think God does exist and has a hand in the things that affect us directly."

"Interesting. So what does your battered belief system tell you about what's happening to Sally?"

There was another long pause as Howard took his time to think. He seemed to resettle himself into the chair to contemplate a proper answer. "It could be that man is taking some evolutionary leap forward, of course, and this is simply what happens to life everywhere in the cosmos." He stopped to look out the window, his mind shifting to a more ideological place. "Or it could be God's way of letting us know he's still out there and this is our sign to change our ways."

Robert laughed again. "You're kidding, right? You're not serious?"

"Why is that so hard to believe? Is it because I'm supposed to be a man of science? My titles and degrees only mean I know a little bit more than the average dunce about the greater world around us, but it doesn't mean I've lost the faith of my fathers, Robert. In fact, I would have to say my faith has been reinvigorated as of late because of my studies of the human condition and its many complexities."

"Yeah, but to say God's turning the dials on this one is…"

"Is what? Beyond his capabilities? Beyond his willingness to help us?"

"No — I was thinking it might be beyond his willingness to care. Why would he care so much about some ninety-year-old woman? Why would making her younger interest him?"

Howard grinned as he shook his head. "Because it would greatly interest us, that's why. The Lord openeth the eyes of the blind: the Lord raiseth them that are bowed down: the Lord loveth the righteous."

"Sounds vaguely familiar."

"Psalm 147:8. It means he's always there and sometimes he might use the best of us to put our attention on this fact."

"Somebody like Sally Carmichael, you mean."

"Perhaps," Howard shrugged, "and then again, it could be Mrs. Carmichael simply stuck upon the right meds and food and water to make her young again; maybe she just hit the chemical lotto."

Robert smiled at the joke. "You know there might be a way to find out which is true."

"Oh? And how would we do that?"

"Well, Sally didn't rise from the dead like Lazereth from the tomb. You have to admit, her situation is a little bit different. I mean, we've heard of people rising from the dead… but I've never heard of somebody slowly getting younger."

"So?"

"So… what would happen if this woman turns into a seven year old and then gets hit by a bus? What if her body gets vaporized in a plane crash? What if somebody just walked up to her and stabbed her in the chest? You think she's gonna come back again?"

Howard smiled back. "I doubt it."

"Well then, wouldn't that tell us this wasn't part of God's plan at all, but something you described as just evolutionary? It couldn't be some miracle from God if you can cut her throat and watch her bleed to death."

Howard seemed to flinch at the picture in his mind. "But don't you think the fact she _does_ exist is message enough this might be a part of God's plan?" He looked at Robert again and smiled. "After all, if living forever is suddenly on the table for each of us… wouldn't we be more careful with ourselves? Learn to become more ideological and perhaps, in the centuries of time suddenly given to us, mend our soiled ways?"

Robert thought about this for a moment. "Maybe. So, I guess we're back to the original question: Is God making this happen or letting this happen?"

"Well… whether it's part of his original plan or not, he's definitely letting it happen. Anything else is just a guess, but… it's certainly got my attention."

"Yeah, and everybody here at Mercy too." Robert stood. "Well, I got a call I have to make, so like I said before… I'll get out of your way. Thanks for taking the time to talk with me. Any idea when Ethan will be allowed to leave the hospital?"

"No, I don't. My focus has been exclusively on Mrs. Carmichael since she's decided to stay with Mr. Dodge."

Robert left the office highly suspicious. Howard was a nice enough guy, but the detective didn't believe his story concerning his talking to a member of his staff about Sally's case. Robert would check to see if this Sheil person really did exist, but he was certain he heard Howard calling the other person on the phone by name. In fact, he thought he called him _Bezuhov_. Robert thought about the name and then tried to write it down in his note pad. He wasn't sure why Howard would lie to him about talking to this man, but it did represent the smallest hole in the flow of information. What if Bezuhov turned out to be a newspaper reporter? _No… that wasn't right. There was too much respect in Howard's voice when speaking to the man. _He thought about the name again. _Was Bezuhov_ _a Russian name?_

Robert opened his phone. He hadn't lied to Howard about needing to make a call.

"Dan? Hey… it's Robert Coleman from Seattle. I'm good, good. Your kid win that big game you were telling me about last week? Excellent! You'd better keep a candle lit for all those scouts who'll be banging on your door, huh?" Robert laughed and then motioned to Kari who he saw coming down the corridor toward him. She smiled, looked around, and then delivered a breast shaking coochie-coochie dance in the hallway as she came forward. Robert gave an eager thumbs up.

"Listen, Dan, I'm investigating something out here that I could use your help with. Do you still have access to that U.S. Visit software? Great, I'm going to email you a few pictures of some suspects we need to identify. I know I should be doing this through the proper channels, but the victim is also a friend of mine, so I thought I'd call and try to cut through the red tape." Kari stopped in front of him and frowned.

"Hey thanks, Dan. Email anything you find, all right? Perfect. And hey, if your boy gets accepted to Washington I'm gonna call you again for Husky seats, you can count on that." He laughed and flipped the phone closed.

Kari gave him a quick kiss. "Who was that?"

"Friend of mine at Homeland Security in the travel and immigration office. They store electronic copies of visitor travel documents, scanned fingerprints and the pictures of in and outbound visitors to the U.S.. He also has some really nifty recognition software he's been playing with that can link any photograph of an individual to entries within their database."

"I don't understand. Is this about the men who attacked Ethan?"

"Yeah. I got some pretty good video shots of those Russians who were hanging around in the hallway before the attack. I figured if they're foreign visitors, Dan might get a lucky hit and we could learn more about them. If nothing else, I could reach out to see if they saw anybody suspicious in or around the time of the attack."

Kari smiled at him and then came close. "You know… you are a really good detective, and here I am thinking you're just another guy with a nice ass."

Robert reached out and pulled her hips to him. "You know, I'm good at a lot of things you might not know about." He slid his hand behind to give her a squeeze on the rear.

She cooed back at him. "Oh really? And what things would you be talking about, detective?"

"Oh, for example. I'm pretty good at making love while standing up; know of a broom closet where I can show you my balancing act?"

"Detective Coleman! What makes you think I would be that kind of girl?" She turned in his arms and gave him a little bump in the groan.

He bumped her back. "Oh I don't know, just a feeling I get sometimes."

She laughed and then turned to face him again. "Hey, it looks like they're going to release Ethan today. Sally's going with him."

Robert frowned. "But I haven't had time to check out her burglary; she can't go back to her apartment yet. Burglars who hit an empty space have a tendency to go back."

"I don't think that's going to be a problem. Sally's going to mother Ethan at his place. He's going to need a lot of help getting around for a few more days."

"What about your uncle and his tests?"

"Oh — she's done with that. Now that Ethan's well enough to leave, Sally is refusing to do anything more with the doctors here. Uncle Glad is going to have to study what he's got, because there won't be anything more unless her condition changes."

"Humph, if she changes more, she'll soon be a teenager," Robert grumbled.

Kari turned to look back at him over her shoulder. She bumped him again. "What's a teenager got that I haven't got?" She smiled at him and then walked away.

Robert looked back at her. "Mmm'mm. Nothing at all, little missy, nothing at all."

101


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12d06

Chapter 12 (Draft 06)

"Oh, Robert…."

Kari was astride her man, her body slowly gyrating with pleasure. Robert reached up to knead her naked breasts and her jaw fell as she started to rock faster. Her head snapped back when her organism finally took hold and Robert immediately pulled her down on top of him. He thrust upward as his own climax blissfully merged with her lasting spasms.

They were left panting in each other's arm for a full minute before she rose up again to kiss him. "Detective Coleman… you're one terrific fuck, you know that?"

Robert looked up at Kari's naked body still astride him. While she was undoubtedly beautiful, it was in the afterglow of their closeness that always amazed him. The sweat on her thin body and breasts, her toned and flat stomach; in his eyes she was perfection. But more than her gorgeous body, it was her cooing smile that always kept him hard inside her even in the afterglow.

He sat up to face her and pushed her sweaty hair behind her ears. "You're beautiful, you know that?" She rolled her eyes. "No I mean it, Kari… you really are beautiful."

"You have to say that when I'm wrapped around you like this."

He kissed her deeply and she cooed again. They looked into each other's eyes and he marveled at the tiny flecks of green randomly intermingled within the brown of her iris, invisible except to a lover close enough to look for it. She pushed him onto his back again and then resettled herself. Closing her eyes, she smiled as she lifted up slightly and slid back down.

"Oh… I see you still have more to give." Her eyes fluttered as she began rocking again and as his cell started to buzz on the table next to them.

"Shit! Don't answer that!"

Robert already had the phone in his hand and was looking at the incoming number. "It's Dan at Homeland Security. I gotta take this.

"Hey, Dan. No, it's okay. I wasn't… ah… doing anything…. "

Kari glared down at him.

Robert was smiling below her, his face looking desperately apologetic.

"No… I haven't seen my email yet. Why, did you send me something?"

Kari straightened and crossed her arms, rolling her eyes in mocked resentment.

Robert grinned and then pulled her hand down to kiss the inside of her palm, but was immediately distracted.

"Oh, you did? That's great! So what did you find?"

Kari smiled back, but there was a glint of something evil in her eye as she leaned forward to kiss his neck and then began sucking on the lobe of his ear opposite the phone. She could feel him shudder, his erection getting harder.

"Yeah? On three of the pictures?" Robert continued, trying his best to sound professional.

Kari sat up again and Robert was soundlessly pleading for her to stop. She smiled coyly and then began to rub her breasts teasingly above him as she started to gyrate again.

"Ohhhh…. Really?" Robert moaned. "Okay, I'll — I'll — check — it — out — right — away. Thanks — Dan." Kari was bouncing on top of him and giggling while Robert stammered. He roared as he hung up and tossed the phone sideways on the bed.

"You little brat, come here!" he made a grab for her but Kari had already jumped off to get away. She was laughing hysterically.

"You deserved it," she said, pointing at him accusingly. "You shouldn't have answered!" She ran to the other side of the bed as Robert threw a pillow and then leapt up.

"Come back here!"

Kari was laughing hysterically and pointing as his erection snapping side to side as he came around the bed.

"Looks like you still have some unfinished business there, chief. Jeez — how do you walk with that thing?" She laughed again and then screamed before making a dive across the bed to escape. He caught her by the ankle, twisted her around, and threw himself on top of her. She was laughing and slapping him on the chest as he forced her legs apart and then roughly pushed himself inside her again. Her nails dug into his back but then quickly relaxed.

He rose up to look down at her. "You're an insufferable tease, you know that?"

Kari moaned as he started moving in and out of her and she lifted her legs off the bed to wrap them around his waist. He was smiling hungrily as he thrust himself as deep as he could inside her.

"I thought you had some email you needed to check?" she said derisively.

He rose up, unlocked her legs behind him, and moved one of her ankles to his shoulder. "It can wait."

She gasped as he began making love to her again. "Oh… Robert, you're such — a great — fuck."

An hour later, Robert was sitting in a wet towel in the living room with his laptop. He opened his email and saw Dan's message on the top of his intray; he clicked on it. He read quickly through the message before opening the first of two attachments. His eyes widened.

"Hey Kari, come here a minute. I want you to see this."

"What's up, lover?" Kari entered the room rubbing her hair with a matching towel.

"I got this message from Dan. He was able to ID three of the four guys who were hanging around Sally's room this week. Looks like Ethan was right — turns out they really are Russian."

"You're kidding?" Kari leaned over his shoulder to see three surly faces staring back at them from the screen. Her face twisted. "Oh my… they're really ugly cusses… ain't they?"

Robert downed the pictures and then opened the pdf file attached to Dan's message. It contained three government documents with information on the men from the Homeland Security database.

"Well now, will you look at that? Hold on." Robert reached over to grab his jacket off the back of the chair. He removed the small notebook from his inside pocket and flipped to the name he wrote outside of Doctor Howard's office. "Yeah, I thought so."

"What is it?"

Robert looked at Kari. "It turns out your Uncle Glad knows the man who hired these guys."

Kari looked affronted. "What? What do you mean?"

"I heard him talking to somebody on the phone outside his office — somebody he called Mr. Bezuhov."

"Somebody from the University, maybe?"

"Yeah, that's what _he_ said, but he wasn't telling me the truth."

Kari frowned at him. "Are you saying Uncle Glad lied to you?"

"He gave me the name of the staff member he said he was talking to, but I distinctly heard him call the man Bezuhov."

"So… who's Bezuhov?"

"I don't know and Dan didn't have anything in the database on him either. That means he's either a U.S. citizen or he's been in the country longer than four years. But if you look at the files on the three Russians at the hospital, you'll see they all came into this country to work for Bezuhov."

Robert showed Kari the pdf file. It highlighted the employer's name given for the men. Bezuhov was listed for all three.

Kari straightened. "Maybe they were there for security reasons? Maybe Uncle Glad hired somebody to keep Sally safe. You know… from the public, I mean. You said yourself once the word got out about Sally's condition, there might be a lot of press trying to get to her."

Robert leaned back to think. He didn't believe that, but there was no way to be sure, given the information he had in his possession. "I don't think he would have done that without telling me." He looked at Kari and frowned. "Listen, I know he's your uncle and all, and you know I think the world of him, but let me ask you something: Who around Sally would have benefited by what happened to Ethan?"

Kari was surprised. "What? What are you talking about? Nobody!"

"Think, Kari. Who came out of that attack at little better off than if Ethan had simply taken Sally home that night?"

Kari thought for a moment and then frowned. She stood to glare down at him. "You can't be serious? You think Uncle Glad hurt Ethan Dodge? That's ridiculous!"

"I didn't say he hurt Ethan, only that Glad had something to gain from it. The attack on Ethan kept Sally in the hospital for a few more days, didn't it? And during that time, your uncle was able to continue testing her condition."

"But Robert. I was the one who told Glad about Sally. He didn't know anything about her until I called him."

"I know, I know — but let me ask you something else: who really knows what's truly happening to Sally except him? Only your uncle really understands how significant her case is right now." He looked down at his laptop again and opened his browser.

"What are you doing?"

Robert continued typing and finally hit return. "Looking up this Bezuhov guy." He groaned. "Tolstoy's War and Peace, twenty eight thousand hits. Jesus… I gotta cut this down. How about Bezuhov, Russian." He was typing again. "Hmmm… still two thousand hits, mostly Tolstoy again.

"The files on the Russians show them living in Los Angeles. I'll add that to the search." He continued to type. "That's better. Only forty six hits that time." He scanned down the list. "Okay… let's do a minus Tolstoy and… Pierre." He hit return again. There was only one hit. "Damn — Amazon dot com. Crap! There's nothing here about him." He closed his laptop in frustration.

"I need to find a way to look this guy up."

Sally Carmichael was bringing Ethan some soup on a tray before stopping at the doorway. She frowned. Ethan was sitting in a leather chair looking uncomfortable but asleep; the cast on his broken ankle was propped up on a matching ottoman. His left arm, which was locked in a cast as well, was lying perpendicular across his body. No matter how many times she saw him during the day, Sally was always appalled at seeing him in this state; a spiritually beautiful man, broken and trampled. At least he was able to sleep. A set of books sat beside him under a reading lamp.

Sally straightened, forced a smile, and then entered the room. "Ethan, dear, I've made you some soup."

The man immediately jerked awake at her voice. She could tell he wasn't used to having somebody sharing the space within his townhouse.

"Oh, thank you. You're too good to me, Sally."

He struggled to level himself as she came forward, looking eagerly over the edge of the bowl as she sat the tray on his lap. He looked down and wafted the steam from the broth toward his nose.

"Oh, it smells wonderful." He looked up at her and smiled. He was always amazed by the youthful changes that seemed to be accelerating with each passing day. Still, it was becoming clear he cherished her company for more than the way she looked. He found her disapproving wariness regarding her reforming youth even more appealing than the splendor he saw rising from the darkest caves of time.

She smiled down at him and cupped her hands. "It's just a little soup. I was somewhat limited by the gentleman's pantry in the kitchen," she replied, motioning behind her. "I might have to go out and purchase a few things to improve the taste."

Ethan groaned with pleasure as he took a sip of the soup. He looked up again. "I really don't think it needs anything more. It's truly wonderful."

He caught himself admiring her again. Even within the dated and frumpy clothes she was wearing, he could see the shapelier body trying to hide itself within; it made him frown as he looked down.

"Sally, you really don't have to stay with me like this and I know the extra bed in the guess room is terribly uncomfortable."

Sally sat on the couch next to his chair. "The bed was fine, Ethan, and I won't see you hopping about this house when you should be healing." She reached out to pat his hand. "Besides, given what Detective Coleman said about my apartment being burglarized, I should be thanking you for allowing me to stay here. Even with Samuel's retirement check, my monthly income won't allow me to stay in a hotel in the city. I'm blessed to have such a generous friend as you."

Ethan smiled back at her. "I'm so glad you're here with me, Sally." His gratitude was broken by a sudden frown.

"Are you in pain again? Do you need another pill?" Sally immediately stood, looking concerned.

"No-no. I'm okay, but… ah…"

"What is it, dear? What do you need?"

He frowned once more as he looked up. "I ah… have to go to the bathroom again."

Sally smiled at his awkwardness. "Oh, is that all. You gave me such a fright. Well… let's get you up then."

Ethan set his tray down and grabbed the crutches to the side while Sally lifted up his leg and slid the footstool out from under his cast. He was surprised at her strength as she helped him to his feet.

"My word, Sally, you're getting stronger every day."

She looked into his eyes and was immediately aware of their closeness. She smiled as she helped him turn toward the bathroom.

"Are you sure you're going to be all right by yourself after I get you through the door?"

"Oh yeah —," he gave a quick wince of pain as he hobbled along. "Once I get inside I should be okay; I won't make you go any farther once I'm there." They looked at each and laughed.

Suddenly, one of Ethan's crutches slipped out from under him. He gave a yelp of pain and immediately began to twist.

"Oh, no-no-no!" Sally cried out, struggling to keep him from dropping. She did what she could, but only managed something of an unhurried collapse as he crashed to the floor. She fell on top of him and one of the crutches swung around to bang into the table. The table tipped over, spilling the books and the lamp over and onto Sally's back.

"Oh my God, Ethan!"

Ethan Dodge rolled over and immediately began to laugh.

"Ethan! Are you all right?"

Pushing the books and lamp off of his rescuer's back, Ethan smiled at Sally struggling to help him. His stiff leg was at an odd angle, hampering her efforts to put him right before she fell on top of him once more.

"Oh God — dear God. Ethan, what can I do? It was all my fault; I should have had a stronger hold. Are you hurt, are you injured again?"

Ethan was still laughing. "I'm dear lady, it wasn't your fault I was born a clumsy oaf."

She moved his splayed arm back to its proper place across his chest, and in that moment Ethan found her closeness too alluring and his actions uncontained. As she fumbled with removing the books from around his shoulders, Ethan moved his good hand up to her face to soothe her.

Sally froze, her eyes widening in shock as she looked down at him. His soothing touch turned into a soft caress upon her cheek and then his hand turned to brush what was left of her gray hair to the side.

"Ethan…" Sally moaned. She closed her eyes as she turned her head into his touch. She couldn't help herself, and when she opened her eyes again she found herself closer to him and his hand roaming across the other side of her face.

"Ethan…"

She could see him lifting his head off the floor to close the remaining space between them. He hesitated for a single breath and then he kissed her. Sally closed her eyes at his touch, their lips reaching longingly for each other. She could feel his hand moving through her hair to the back of her neck and then pulled her down to the floor with him, eager for more. His lips were surprisingly soft and gentle, despite the desperateness of his actions to bring her closer, and it was then that Sally realized she was the one who was desperate, she was the one pushing him down to the floor; she was on top of him. The shock of it made her break away.

"Ethan… we shouldn't." She sat up and looked away, trying to the best to straighten her clothes. He could see she was very embarrassed.

"Sally…"

"What must you think of me?" she said, covering her face with a trembling hand.

Ethan smiled and then raised his hand to her. "Sally, you must know how much I care for you. From the moment I first saw you…"

She finally looked down at him. "But you're…" she hesitated, her hands open before him. "And I'm…" her open fingers cupped themselves to point inward.

"What?" He took her by the hand.

"I'm more than twice your age," she finally said, bewildered. "An old hag — and I shouldn't be… this was a mistake. What was I thinking? I shouldn't be seen in the company of a young man like… like… you. It… it's… so very improper." She rose to her knees to set the fallen table right and then the lamp upon it.

"Sally… you're younger than me now."

She looked at him in shock. "I most certainly am not! I'm ninety-three years old, Ethan — a very, very old woman."

"Can you help me up?"

"Oh, my God." Sally jumped to her feet. "Here I am going on about me with you still lying on the cold floor. Where is my head?" She helped Ethan to sit up, stand, and then moved him back to his chair again.

"Sally… please, sit next to me. I want to talk to you."

"Ethan, I'm sorry for what happened. I just don't know what came over me. I'm so embarrassed." She laid her forehead into her hands as she sat down. He could see the red in her face blooming bright between her fingers as she rocked back and forth.

"It wasn't you that reached out. It was me, and I'm not sorry I kissed you."

She looked at him. "You're not?"

"No, I'm not." Then he thought. "Well… if I've embarrassed you by showing my affections then I am sorry about that. It was… rude of me to…"

"No — no, Ethan. You were not rude. You were… never rude. It's just that, you're so young and… and I'm so…"

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"

She scoffed. "My physical appearance does not project the person within, Ethan. But that doesn't make me some foolish young girl, somebody suitable for somebody like…" she stopped again to look at him admiringly. He could see her eyes roaming through the features of his face.

"Like me?" Ethan smiled. "My dear, sweet lady; I've always felt a man such as myself would be lucky to have a person like you in his life, regardless of the differences in our age."

There was a diminutive smile even as she struggled to force her response back down. "But having me in your life is far different than what just happened. It isn't right; it wouldn't be proper." She looked away and began to rock back and forth nervously again. The girlishness of her embarrassment made him grin.

Ethan stared at her for the longest time. He could see she was struggling with what she called _her mother's values_, and it was in that moment of admiration that he realized the most obvious thing within himself.

"Would what happened just now be proper… if I told you… that I love you?"

Sally suddenly looked horrified. "Ethan Dodge — you don't know what you're saying. Of all the silly notions — you're certainly not right in the head! You were the same way in the hospital." She waved him off almost laughingly, but her eyes never left him. Her face looked pleading, desperate for him to stop.

"I know exactly what I'm saying. I'm in love with you, Sally Carmichael."

She gaped at him. "I'm going to get on the telephone right now and call Kari Dietz; you must have hit your head on the floor again. You must have another concussion…"

He leaned forward to take her by the hand. "No… I'm fine. Sally… I do love you, and now I realize that I've been in love with you for a very long time." She tilted her head disbelievingly and then covered her face to look away. He squeezed her hand gently.

"Is love so rare?

"Is love so fleeting that we cannot share it between us?

"Is kindness ever unfair to those who might seek it?

"Is a tender heart now and again hardened against it?

"Love is always present, not rare, not fleeting.

"Love is always kind and trusted to exist even as we look to avoid it.

"Love is in the heart, tender and hard, but ever present.

"For the heart is made from the very thing that created it:

"It is… love."

He squeezed her hand again. "It was a wonderful kiss and I don't regret it. And there was enough in that one kiss to keep me a happy man for the rest of my life. But you should know this: Love is not fleeting for me, Sally. There was love for you in my kiss."

Sally's tears were showing. "You are such a wonderful man, Ethan. But I cannot set a lifetime of values aside, even if I wanted…" she hesitated again as her head dropped to stare into her lap.

"Then for now… we'll set this aside, if that will make you comfortable," he said stoically. "I won't have my feelings making you uneasy or embarrassed." He leaned forward. "But know this:" he squeezed her hand again and she looked up. "As time passes between us, we may never speak of this again, but when you see me smiling at you… always know my love for you is right there. My smile will always be the reminder that I care more deeply for you than any other person I've ever met in my entire life."

Sally tilted her head to the side again and squeezed his hand back, as another tear ran down her softened cheek filled with pink. She couldn't find the words to respond.

"I do have one more favor to ask of you though," he said finally, and Sally looked bewildered. He could see she wanted him to stop.

"I still have to go to the bathroom."

She finally smiled and he laughed as he reached down for his crutches again. She stood and helped him into the bathroom and then closed the door behind him.

"Call me when you're ready to go back," she said through the door. "I'm going to warm your soup again."

"Okay."

A minute later Sally was in the kitchen, trying to figure out the microwave. After getting it started, she turned to lean against the counter to think. She closed her eyes, reached up to touch her lips, and then smiled.

"I'm ready!"

She opened the oven door to remove the soup and headed back to the living room.

"I'm very disappointed in you, doctor."

Howard was nervously trying to explain. "Mr. Bezuhov, please, you must understand. I couldn't keep her a prisoner at the hospital, and there just wasn't enough time to administer the drug a second time without invalidating the results of the first test. There was no point in…"

"Doctor Howard. I'm not talking about the injections. My disappointment is centered on your apparent lack of urgency. You seem unwilling to understand the significance of the Carmichael case. She is the key to our immediate success, and yet you allowed her to remove herself from your watch and care."

There was a long pause and Howard found himself shaking in fear as he waited for more. He could hear his cell phone buzzing in the background, summoning his attention to another call waiting.

"Nothing to say, doctor? Nothing to explain your reprehensible inaction given my needs?"

"As I said, Mr. Bez…"

"Enough! I'm tired of your excuses, doctor. In addition to permitting Mrs. Carmichael to leave the hospital, your foolishness has allowed the police to connect my name to her case."

"I… I don't understand…"

"Detective Robert Coleman."

Howard was stunned. "Robert? But… what does he have to do with…"

"It would seem your niece's friend has drawn my name and those I employ from the Homeland Security database this morning. That was a mistake the detective will soon regret, but what is more important to me now is how he got my name. How do you think he got my name, doctor?"

"I… I… don't know. I certainly didn't tell him anything about you."

"Your bumbling incompetence is mounting, Doctor Howard, and I am not accustom to those in my employ frustrating my ambitions."

"Please, sir. I've been completely dedicated to our success." Call waiting started buzzing his ear again. "I have set everything in my life aside in order to find the answers we've been searching for, but I need you to understand there are limits to what I can…"

"LIMITS?" Bezuhov shouted. Howard could hear him coughing and when he returned the man's breathing was rattled and filled with fuming hostility. "How dare you concern yourself with any limits outside those given to you by me or those owed my present condition? It is not your job to be concerned with whatever legal or moral restrictions acting as barriers to this work, doctor. You need to seize these realities like they were the keys to heaven's gate and I have ways to insure that you do!"

"Please, sir…" There was other buzz in his ear again.

"It's time you answered your other call, doctor. I believe you'll find it's from the city of Rochester."

Howard's eyes widened. He looked at the number buzzing his phone again. "Benny?

"I have to take this call; it could be from my son."

"Not your son, doctor, but from an administrator at Eastman. It would seem young Benjamin has been absent from his classes lately."

"Not… not showing up?"

"Yes, in fact… I believe they're about to tell you he's missing."

"My God. What?"

"It's time to draw more urgency from your ambitions, doctor. For now, you should know that your son is safe. I have seen to that."

Howard almost dropped the phone in shock. "Am I to believe… that you've _taken_ my son?"

"Taken him? Of course not. I haven't been a bully of young boys for decades, doctor. I can assure you, Benjamin came willingly enough."

"Please — please, I beg you." Howard was desperate. "My son is very gentle — so very delicate. You have no idea what…"

"Oh — but I do, doctor. I do know about his history… and I understand his frailties well. That's why I thought it best he stay with me for a while. I'd like to insure he remains in the best of care while you strive for a more forthright method to our work. I believe you're about to receive another call, doctor. This time… from your wife."

"Please, Mr. Bezuhov… I beg you. Don't hurt my son. I'll do _anything_ you ask, please!"

"I know you will, Doctor Howard. And now I believe you have a clearer understanding of the risks at stake, but you should also know these risks are rather minimal given the fact they are under your control completely.

"You will contact your niece and make the necessary arrangements to gather Mrs. Carmichael in again. You will find that she's been staying at Mr. Dodge's townhouse. I'll expect to see the results of your final tests within the next forty eight hours, doctor." There was a click and Howard hurriedly hit the send button again.

"Elizabeth?" He listened to his wife's voice with trepidation. "Wait-wait-wait, when did you last hear from Benny?"

19


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13d07

Chapter 13 (Draft 07)

Ethan was still sleeping when Sally quietly slid the lock. She looked back toward his bedroom as she opened the front door just wide enough to creep out and then amusingly caught herself skipping down the steps to the sidewalk below. She was astounded at how easy she was leaving her ninety plus years behind and enjoying the things her revived body hadn't allowed for decades. It was the simple things that surprised her the most; things the pain of a life already lived should have reminded her were far out of bounds, but not anymore. She felt wonderful, but more than that, she felt free.

It wasn't just her walking about without the normally sore back, or the disturbing spells of unbalance that had plagued her over the last decade. No, it was skipping happily down the stairs without the worry that somebody she knew recognizing her. She didn't have to be concerned with somebody pointing to say, "Aren't you Sally Carmichael? Aren't you supposed to be a little more careful with yourself, given your age?" This new found freedom from her old identity was surprisingly enthralling.

Like anybody else living in Seattle for more than a week, Sally inspected the morning sky. It was cloudy, but not enough to force her back inside for an umbrella.

She spotted a middle-aged man whistling unconsciously as he passed by.

"Excuse me, sir."

The man turned to deliver a happy smile. "Yes, my good lady, is there something I can do for you?"

Sally was taken aback by his immediate attention to her needs and the way his eyes began roaming so liberally over the features of her face.

"Yes, would you know of a market nearby? I'm a visitor unfamiliar with the area."

The man grinned over interestedly. "Sure," he directed her left, "just go up the street to the next block and turn right. There's a family market there." He smiled at her again. "Was there anything in particular you were looking to find?"

Sally frowned. She couldn't help feeling suspicious of the man's agreeable nature. "Ah… just a few things for my husband," she replied guardedly, glancing up to the door of Ethan's townhouse.

The man smiled again. "Well, they can sell you the basics, but if you need something more there's a supermarket about four blocks further up the street."

"Thank you."

He nodded, "You're very welcome and have a pleasant day," and then continued on his way with a another whistled tune.

Sally fumbled through her purse to insure she had enough money. "My husband?" she mumbled critically to herself. She hadn't used that line with a stranger since she was in her twenties.

An hour later, Sally was carrying a small bag of goods and looking for a bench in which to rest. She finally found a bus stop two blocks from Ethan's house and sat on the end before realizing she didn't need the rest at all. The whole process of finding a place to sit was just another lingering habit acquired over time and due her age. Not wanting somebody to wonder why she would stand within seconds of sitting, she decided to stay and enjoy the morning and it wasn't long before another man moved in to sit next to her.

"Hello," he said casually.

Sally looked over. He was a young man, maybe in his early thirties, dressed in jeans and a herringbone jacket. He was smiling at her in a way that made Sally think to mention her husband again. Instead, she gestured enough to acknowledge his right to sit before looking away.

"I think it might actually warm up today," the man added, making Sally feel put upon. She didn't like the way the man sat himself in the center of the bench to take up all the room between her and the end opposite. To make matters worse, he casually spread his arms wide across its length, as if to set a sinister trap for some unsuspecting victim.

"Perhaps," Sally said, annoyed.

The man leaned over toward her. "Aren't you Sally Carmichael?"

Sally turned to the man and frowned. "Excuse me? Do I know you, sir?"

"No ma'am. My name is Jonathan and I'm a reporter for the Seattle Times."

Sally immediately turned to look straight again. "How very interesting for you."

"Are you a subscriber, ma'am?"

She looked at him again. "I'm afraid I don't think much of your paper, Mr…?"

"It's Jonathan."

She stared unblinkingly at him.

"Jonathan… Cunningham."

Sally leaned back. "I have always looked to the city's editorials to understand the heart of a daily, sir. The Times and the Post are rubbish… left-wing trash, in my opinion."

The man grinned. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I like to think my paper is fairly well-balanced."

Sally huffed and looked straight again. "You know, Mr. Cunningham, you're being very rude."

"Am I? How's that?"

She looked at him scornfully. "How's that?" Her stare darkened. "I certainly hope you're not writing your own copy, sir." She pointed to where the man's bottom was making contact with the bench. "You're taking up the entire space so nobody else can sit. The civil standards of my day would call somebody acting without regard to others as being rude."

Cunningham smiled again and then slid closer to her, as if to make room on his other side.

"In addition, a young man would never think to sit next to a woman he didn't know and proceed to prattle on about nothing," Sally said despondently, inching away from him as best she could.

"When you're a reporter, getting close to people is kind of a necessity."

Sally glared at him again. "Is there something I can do for you, sir?"

"I just had a few questions I'd like to ask you. How old are you, Mrs. Carmichael?"

Sally was taken aback. "Excuse me? I don't think that's any of your business, Mr. Cunningham."

"My sources from Mercy Center tell me you're in your nineties. Is that true? Is it also true that you're getting younger?"

Panicking, Sally immediately stood. "I won't tolerate rudeness, sir. Good day to you."

The reporter jumped to his feet to follow her. "The man that took you in, is his name Ethan Dodge?"

Sally spun on her heals. "It is improper English to refer to a person as '_that'_, Mr. Cunningham," she told him scathingly. "The man _who_ took me in is a gentleman, unlike you."

The reporter was now walking by her side as they turned to continue up the walk. "Are you really ninety years old? Are you and Mr. Dodge living together and isn't he half your age? What would people in your day say about that?"

Sally turned the last corner to Ethan's townhouse. "Mr. Cunningham — must I scold you in public to leave me?"

"Sally, please. My sources at the hospital told me you might represent the next evolutionary change for mankind. Is that what they told you as well?"

"I don't believe I gave you permission to call me familiar, sir." Sally began to walk faster.

"Did you just wake up and find yourself getting younger, or did the doctors do something to make you this way? The doctor who did this needs to get their act together if he's going to..."

Sally turned abruptly. "MR. CUNNINGHAM!" She immediately tried to compose herself, clutching her purse tight. "'The doctor' is one person. 'Their' refers to more than one person. 'Needs' is a singular verb and cannot refer to 'their'. To say 'their act' is just wrong, sir, as is your impertinent harassment. I will not be chased about the walk like a beast of venery!"

She turned to cross the street before seeing the mob of reporters banging on Ethan's front door.

"What in heaven's name?"

Cunningham stopped next to her again. "As you can see, I'm not the only one looking to get your story, Mrs. Carmichael." He turned to stand in front of her.

"Listen, my car is parked right over there. Why don't you come with me to a quiet spot where we can be alone and talk? Once the others see I've got an exclusive, they should leave you alone."

Sally scowled back at him. "You're no better than the rest!" She bravely continued to walk toward the mob.

"There she is!"

The group turned and immediately raced over to her. There were bright lights and cameras, and several microphones were being shoved into Sally's face.

"Mrs. Carmichael — Sally — how do you feel about getting younger?"

"How old are you, Mrs. Carmichael?"

"Are you part of a medical experiment? Who was the doctor that did this to you?"

"Is the younger man living at this address your boyfriend?

"Are you still getting younger?"

"Have the doctors told you how young you'll be when these experiments stop?"

"Do you have any advice to the elderly in our community?"

"Were you abducted by aliens?"

"Are you being sponsored by a pharmaceutical company?"

"Mrs. Carmichael! My paper would be willing to pay you handsomely for an exclusive interview…"

Sally could see Ethan at this doorway, wavering precariously on his crutches and desperately motioning her to him. She tried to move through the crowd, but one of the cameramen reached out to shove her back. Somebody else hit her in the head with a microphone.

"Good Lord!" Sally yelped, dropping her bag and purse.

"All right, you bunch of vultures. Step back!" A man was pushing his way through the crowd; it was Detective Coleman. Waving his badge above the reporters, he began to pushing some of the cameramen to the side.

"Come on, Sally. I've got you."

Sally looked up to find Kari helping her to straighten again.

"Kari! Please… make them go away; what do they want?"

"I said step back!"

"We have a right to ask questions, this is a public street."

"And I call pushing her around assault. Now step back, before I haul your asses in. For God's sake, let the woman breathe."

Kari was helping Sally up the steps toward Ethan who was reaching frantically for her. They finally forced the door closed as the banging outside continued.

"Sally, are you all right?" Ethan was looking both concerned and very angry. "How dare they hound you like that in the middle of the walk! What the hell do they want?"

"Apparently, the word is out now about her condition; they smell a story like a shark smells blood." Robert was waving the reporters away through the curtain and locking the door.

"Can't you send them off?"

Robert looked at Ethan and shrugged. "It is a public street." The detective's phone started to ring.

"Excuse me. Coleman here. Yeah… what's up, Doug? I'm kind of busy right… what?" he stopped. "Yeah, I'm over at the Dodge place right now. Okay, yeah, okay – thanks; I'll check it out." He slapped the phone closed and looked up at Ethan."

"You got a TV?"

Ethan nodded and then walked over to an antique cabinet. He opened the doors to reveal a small television inside.

"Go to channel eleven."

Ethan stabbed at the buttons on the front and a woman's face began to fade up on the screen. She was talking over a crowd of reporters to deliver the morning's news."

"We're standing outside the home of a Mr. Ethan Dodge where, apparently, we just saw Mrs. Sally Carmichael entering the residence. I think the sudden appearance of the woman surprised many of us here who were looking to confirm an earlier report coming out of Mercy Center Hospital that said Mrs. Carmichael has contracted a very rare condition that before now has never been seen.

The woman looked down at her notepad. "Now get this… according to an unnamed source at the hospital, Mrs. Carmichael is de-aging. That's right, you heard me correctly; the woman is said to be getting younger with each passing day.

"Eyewitnesses, including myself who just saw the woman entering the house behind me, looks to be person in her mid-forties. However, we have confirmed that Mrs. Carmichael is actually ninety-three years of age. Due to privacy laws, the hospital will not make an official comment about their patient who they say checked herself out of Mercy Center yesterday against the advice of their doctors. A second unnamed source at the hospital has also confirmed the story, saying," the reporter looked down at her pad again, "and I quote, 'with each passing day Sally Carmichael is definitely getting younger and the doctors here at Mercy are at a complete loss to explain how or why this is happening to her.'" The woman looked up at the camera again.

"If the woman we just saw going into the house is indeed Sally Carmichael, then we can confirm the reports coming out of Mercy are absolutely true. The only official statement being released from the hospital said the Carmichael case has been sent to the Center for Disease Control just as a precaution, but the CDC has refused to acknowledge receiving any such report. This is Lisa Hummel reporting — back to you at the anchor desk."

Sally looked at Ethan. "They think I have some kind of disease? But the doctors at the hospital never said anything of the sort. Why would they report me to a government agency?"

"Like the reporter said, Mrs. Carmichael, they probably did it just as a precaution. I'll make a call into the CDC to see what they intend to do about the report. I'm sure they get strange calls like this from hospitals every day."

Sally smiled at Robert and then walked over to him. She stared appraisingly up at him for a moment and then raised her hand.

"You were a blessing coming to my rescue on the sidewalk outside, Detective Coleman. You have my thanks… and my gratitude."

He shook her hand, somewhat surprised by the woman's formality. "Just doing my job, Mrs. Carmichael."

She smiled. "Humility is also a blessing, sir, and it would please me again if you referred to me by my given name, Mr. Coleman. You may call me Sally, if it pleases you to do so."

From of the corner of his eye the detective could see Kari cupping her hands over her mouth in surprise. He could tell from her reaction that what Sally was offering him was immensely more important than it sounded. The man smiled.

"You honor me, ma'am. And it would please me if you simply called me Robert."

Still holding the detective's hand, Sally smiled once more and then stiffened. "Robert: A proud English name — it means _bright fame_, does it not?"

"I… ah… didn't know that."

"It would please me to use it, and I would appreciate you making that call to the CDC for me."

She turned again. "Ethan — despite the poorest of manners resident outside your door, my intentions were to make you a better soup, but I see I've lost both my bag and purse on the street below."

"I got them, Sal." Kari returned to the entranceway to retrieve the goods sitting by the door.

"Ah… thank you, child. Would you care to help me in the kitchen?"

Two men dressed in black were sitting in a car down the street from Ethan's house. The man behind the wheel was peering through a pair of binoculars at the crowd of reporters still mingling outside. His cell phone rang and the man handled the binoculars to the other sitting next to him.

"Да, что это такое?" ("Yes, what is it?")

The man straightened to listen intently.

"Да, сэр." ("Yes, sir.")

("We are in front of the house now. There are a lot of reporters outside.")

The driver began to speak slowly, most deliberately into the phone, as the voice on the other end began to yell.

("We have secured the doctor's boy as ordered.)

("Yes, sir. It will be done immediately.")

The Russian closed his phone and then looked at the other.

("We have another job to do back at the hospital.")

Kari was watching Sally stir the pot of soup.

"So… how do you like staying here with Ethan?"

"Oh, his place here is much more comfortable than my drafty old apartment," Sally replied unthinkingly, as she tasted the spoon and then added some salt to the pot.

Kari casually leaned back to see Robert and Ethan talking quietly in the living room. She smiled and turned back to Sally.

"And ah… how are you and Ethan getting along?"

Sally tasted the soup again and frowned. "More salt again?" She threw a pinch into the pot.

"Fine — Ethan's injuries keep him from moving properly, of course, so I help him where and when I can."

Kari smiled again as she leaned against the counter and folded her arms. "Yeah — I can see that, and… ah… I'm sure he'll need your help for a while longer too. So… ah… where you sleeping?"

Sally was adding more ingredients to the soup and then wafting the smell to her nose.

"I'm in the guest room. The bed in there is wonderful — very firm. Good for the back."

"I smell something wonderful coming from the kitchen…" Ethan's voice rang out from the next room and Kari watched Sally smile in response as she continued stirring.

"So you and Ethan seem to be getting along… um… pretty well."

"Of course we are," Sally replied unconsciously again. "Can you hand me the pepper from the table, dear?"

Kari came around to Sally's other side to hand her the shaker. "So? Has anything… ah… happened between the two of you yet?"

"Happened? What do you mean, child?"

Sally had the spoon to her lips again when she noticed Kari staring at her, her friend's eyebrows raised. Sally immediately felt something unexpected seize her by the throat. She began to cough and gag on the soup, quickly grabbing a towel to cover her mouth as she continued to thump and wheeze. Her eyes still watering, she looked up at her friend again.

"Kari Deitz!" Sally whispered, glancing back at the door and toward the men in the other room. "How dare you insinuate such a thing? Ethan has been a perfect gentleman in my presence — always!"

Kari frowned. "Really? Well… that's rather disappointing. I thought something might have sparked up between the two of you by now."

Sally looked both shocked and terrified and then her jaw set. She quickly removed the pot from the flame and turned off the stove.

"Ethan…?" she called loudly, already unscrambling the knot on her apron from behind her back. "Kari and I are going out back for some air."

"Okay — but if you see any reporters snooping around, you might want to come back inside."

Sally grabbed Kari by the arm and yanked her forward. "You're with me, young lady."

Kari smiled again as her friend hauled her to the back door, surprised only by the strong, vise-like grip Sally was able to muster in her anger. They stepped outside to the adjoining porch and Sally quickly closed the door behind them. She peaked through the window to insure Ethan and Robert were not following before turning to Kari again.

"How dare you say such a thing about Ethan Dodge, and what nerve you have to do so in my presence!"

"Sally — stop." Kari was still smiling. "You know I love you more than my own mother. I only want what makes you happy."

"Then how could you insinuate such a thing?"

"Because I see the way you and Ethan look at each other. It's obvious he cares about you, more than that… I think he's in love with you."

Sally was taken aback, unable to speak from the shock.

"And I think you love him too — but for the life of me I can't understand why you won't admit it?"

Sally was still trying to recover herself. "You CAN'T understand why?" she answered in a loud whisper, looking again through the door. "Ethan is half my age! For God's sake, I'm a woman…"

"Who's now younger than the man who loves her," Kari shot back. "Sally, at some point you're going to have to accept things for what they really are. You're no longer a ninety three year old woman." Kari reached out to grab Sally by the shoulder and then direct her back to the door to see her reflection in the centered window.

"Look at yourself, Sal! By any measure, you're now a woman of maybe forty — forty five tops! You're beautiful and young again. All the tests have proven your metabolism is no longer what it once was a few months ago. You're not an old woman anymore, and whether you're willing to accept this fact or not is beside the point."

Sally stared at her own image looking back from the window. It was like looking at somebody she hadn't seen in decades. She slowly raised her hands to her flushed cheeks and felt the smoothness of her own face where once there was old leather. Her anger was shining through bright, blue eyes; color where just a few weeks before was an ugly and foggy gray. Kari stood behind her and combed her fingers back through Sally's gray hair.

"We're absolutely beautiful, Sal. No man could help but notice that now."

Sally thought about Ethan and the way he was looking at her after they fell to the floor together. She thought about the man on the street and his roaming eyes taking their liberties. Kari was right, of course; Sally's body had changed a lot in a very short period of time. Still, as she continued looking at her reflection in the glass, there was something remaining of the old woman that still existed within. Despite Kari's good intentions and meaningful observations, Sally knew there was still a part of her that remained unchanged. She could see her mother's face looking back and the values of a lifetime pulling at her soul.

"There's so much more to a person than what we see on the outside, Kari."

Kari frowned and then turned her friend to face her. "I know that, Sally, but you're still a woman, right? You have needs just like the rest of us."

"What needs are these, child? What in the world are you thinking of me?"

"Oh come on… we all want to be loved and to share our love with somebody who cares about us, isn't that true? Ethan is a very good man and he loves you, I know he does. Why can't you let yourself see that? Why can't you love him back?"

Sally's turned away "But I've already lived my life. It might not have been a perfect life, but it wouldn't be right to want more." She turned to stare into the tiny yard through the porch screen. "Who am I to get a second chance? It's unnatural. It's not right."

"Not right? Sally — you didn't ask for this to happen. In fact, you've been brought kicking and screaming all the way. But this is where you are now and you're gonna have to make the best of it." Kari folded her arms, her expression set.

"Do you care about Ethan?"

Sally turned to her but couldn't answer.

"Well? Do you?"

Sally covered her face. She felt like sobbing.

"Answer me, Sally. I'm not letting you off the hook on this one. It's a simple question: do you care about the man or not?"

Sally was lost in the memories of a life already passed through the halls of time. The images she was so desperately trying to retrieve were desiccate and bleak; the dried up and faded scenes of an existence long departed like dust in the winds of her Nebraska home. The hanging pictures within the halls of her mind where not of her mother or her beloved Mary, but fragmented images she barely remembered as people. Time must have excised a terrible toll to turn those she loved into these soulless depictions, and it took with them the possibility Sally would ever love again. The deepest roots of caring and affection, where the beginnings of love grow in all who ever sought to keep them, had somehow found a way to die without her knowledge or concern.

But there was a lie in these thoughts that only now she understood had lead comprehension to finally visit her. Her soul was a withering flower stuck in the driest desert, where the roots of caring rarely watered were never allowed to grow or bloom. After more than ninety years, Sally had learned one more lesson about the person she had become: if love had ever existed in her heart, it was allowed to die within the nothingness surrounding it. Time had annulled her life of anything worth remembering and now it was worth less than the grains of sand already passed to measure their existence.

And now, suddenly, there was a spark of something once remembered. Somewhere deep within her aged soul, deeper than where caring seeks to spawn love, there was something within her that Kari was desperately searching to find again, but it was Sally who finally found it even if her friend could not. It was hope. And from hope comes desire and caring, and from out of the warmth of this realm love is born anew.

"I think he really loves you, Sally."

Sally wiped her eyes and looked up at her friend. She sniffed and heaved a heavy sigh. "Yes… I know. He already told me."

"No… I'm not talking about what he said at the hospital… I mean…"

"No… it was after…"

Kari was surprised. "He… what? Ethan told you that he loved you again?"

Sally nodded.

"When?"

"Yesterday."

Kari smiled; the glimmer of forming tears was suddenly there. "And what did you say?"

"I told him… he was sick in the head."

"You what?"

Sally smiled and shrugged.

"Is that how you really feel?"

Sally shook her head. "I told him… I couldn't… it wouldn't be right." Kari looked perplexed. "I think he was just… forced into saying it because I kissed him…"

"Whoa — Whoa — Whoa! You kissed him?"

Sally suddenly looked humiliated. "Yes. It was just…" but she couldn't seem to find a way to explain what had happened.

"All right, Sal! Way to go, girl!"

Sally looked up. "I'm… so ashamed."

"Ashamed! Why?"

"I just kind of lost myself in the moment and… it just… happened."

"So you do care about him then."

Sally looked up and finally smiled. "Yes. Yes, I do… care for him… so very much. He's such a gentle and temperate man and, for the life of me, I don't understand what he sees in me."

"Oh stop it," Kari said admonishingly. "Not only are you the smartest person I know, but now you've got the hot body to go with all those brains."

Sally tutted. "Kari, please…"

"I mean it." She reached out to push Sally's gray hair back again. "You know… I brought something with me that might make you see things differently."

Sally sniffed. "What are you talking about?"

Kari pulled a tissue out of her pocket. "Wipe your face and come with me."

Andrew Johnson jumped into the elevator just in time. "Perfect timing," he said, looking around at the others inside, "thought I'd be waiting forever at lunchtime." His fellow passengers smiled.

"Tough Sixers' loss last night huh, AJ?" sounded another man from the back of the car.

AJ looked back at the man frowning behind him and sneered. "They were up by twelve after three; had it wrapped up until Harrington got into foul trouble again."

"Yeah, well… they still have a chance to take the series tonight," the man answered back, hopefully.

The elevator stopped and everybody began to step off. AJ's friend got out and looked back. "Aren't you going to the cafeteria?"

"Not yet. I have to deliver these scripts to the pharmacy. Can you get me a sandwich? I'll pay you back."

The other man smiled coyly. "You sure you can afford it after last night's loss?"

AJ frowned. "Hey — shut up about that." he looked around and smiled nervously at those still leaving the elevator. He leaned in. "You don't want one of Nurse Ratched's spies to overhear you. She's on another rampage about the nurses' pool again. She'll fire your ass quick if she catches you with a copy."

The other man grinned. "Yeah, yeah, I know. So what are you eating? Ham?"

AJ nodded as he stepped back and hit the elevator button again.

"Take the basement route to avoid the traffic," his friend suggested as the doors started to close. "It'll be faster."

The elevator continued down as AJ began to mumble under his breath. "Blew a twelve point lead — what a bunch of fuckin' pansies. Can't rebound to save their asses."

The doors opened and large man in a black suit entered.

"Elevator's headin' down to the basement," AJ informed the very large man. "You might wanna wait for the next one."

The man turned to face the doors without answering as the elevator closed to continue down.

When the doors opened again AJ moved forward. "Excuse me, I'm getting off here." The large man slowly moved to the side without looking back and AJ stepped into a corridor filled with pipes and electrical boxes. He turned to look back at the man still standing unconcerned in the car.

"I tried to tell you the elevator was going to the basement."

The man smiled and then puckered a kiss back at him. AJ frowned and turned to continue down the passageway as he listened for the elevator door to close.

"Fuckin' weirdo."

He looked down at the script he was carrying. "Nice — fifty milligrams of Marinol for Mrs. Adkins. Oh she'll be feeling fine tonight," he laughed to himself. He turned a second corner and then heard a whispering voice behind him.

("Here comes blackie now.")

He turned and was surprised to see the man in the black following him; his hand was pressed into his ear as if talking to somebody on a radio.

AJ stopped to face the approaching man. "Hey, the public ain't allowed down here, man. It's unsafe. You'll need to go back to the elevator and return to the main floor."

The large man ignored the warning as he stooped to avoid bumping his head on one of the steam pipes. He was still whispering into his radio.

"Did you hear me? You're not allowed down here, man." The Russian continued coming forward unconcerned; his massive body filling the passageway as he came toward him.

AJ turned to continue up the corridor and he could hear the man's leather shoes clacking on the cement floor behind him. A red phone mounted on the wall came into view and AJ reached out to grab the receiver. He looked back again.

"I'm going to have to call security to escort you out, my man. I tried to warn you."

A hand behind him suddenly slammed the cradle switch down and AJ turned to find another barrel-chested man dressed in black standing there. The man's eyes were cold, almost dead as they bore into him. AJ barely noticed the man taking the receiver from his hand and placing back into its cradle. There was a heavy poke on the shoulder from behind and AJ spun around to find the man from the elevator standing there. The two men were now crowding him.

The man from the elevator spoke slowly and with a thick accent. "Wat do fock you say to me?"

AJ looked left and then right at the two men and tired to smile. "Hey, man, I… didn't say a thing. I'm not lookin' for any trouble here. I was just saying this place…" he hesitated, "isn't… you know… safe." He tried to smile up at the two of them again.

"Wait a minute. Did Sammy Beans send you here to see me? Listen, I've been paying my debts on time. He's got no hassles with me now; that's old news. I mean the game last night was a blow… but I got it covered. There's no reason to get all…"

"Shut da fock up wit u Simmy Bees boo-sit," The Russian scolded him, grabbing his shirt. "You tell me ubout da woman?"

AJ looked at the man and frowned. "The… the what?"

The other Russian snatched AJ up by the front of his shirt.

"Hey — hey, what the fuck, man. What's going on here?"

"Salwee Car-mi-cul," the man said slowly, "you know, yes?"

"Salwee, what the fuck?" AJ whispered, trying to think fast. "Oh… Sally Carmichael! Yeah, yeah, I know her… sure. I was one of the nurses caring for her while she was here." He could feel his shirt being twisted harder as the large man began to lift AJ off his feet.

"Oh — oh, hold on a minute, man. This ain't necessary. What the fuck you want to know?"

"U big-mout to newspapurs, yah?"

AJ tried to smile. "Me?" He could feel the skin twisting with his shirt. "Ow — ow — ow! Yeah, yeah, okay, yeah. I told a couple of guys from the local papers about her, sure. Hey man, we can all use a few bucks on the side, you know what I'm sayin'? You can't fault a guy for that, right? You guys relatives or something?" The Russian sat AJ on his feet again and smiled. He reached up to smooth his mangled shirt and then patted him softly on the cheek.

"U got big-focking mout un you."

"Hey, man… listen, we all got bills, you know what I'm sayin'?" he laughed nervously. "But if it's a hassle for y'all, you know I can dig it. I only got a 'C' note for the information anyway. I'll gladly hand it over if it'll make it right."

The man with the deadpan eyes stepped away from him and there was a click on the other side. AJ turned to find the other man pointing a very long gun at his head.

"What the fuck, man. I didn't mean no har…"

POP!

The bullet entered AJ's head above the bridge of his nose and exploded out the back in a flash of blood, hair and gray matter. The man's body wavered for a second on its feet before turning slightly to collapse straight down to the floor. The other Russian stepped over the body to remove the man's badge and then straightened.

POP! POP! POP! POP! POP!

What was left of Andrew Johnson's face was turned to the side, his one remaining eye hanging from its socket across one of the gas pipes against the wall.

The shooter stepped in to sneer down at the body.

"Вот что вы получите на открытие вашей большой гребаный рот в газетах, мудак!" ("That's what you get for opening your big fucking mouth to the newspapers, asshole!")

21


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14d05

Chapter 14 (Draft 05)

"Hold on now. We need to do this right."

"Please, Kari, don't turn this into a big scene; it's going to be embarrassing enough. For heaven's sake — I don't know why I let you talk me into this. I look ridiculous."

Kari moved into the living room where Ethan and Robert were sitting in conversation.

"Gentlemen, I have a little surprise for you…"

"Kari, please….," the men could hear Sally's voice complaining in the next room.

"Oh hush, you'll be fine," Kari scolded back in a whisper. She turned to smile at the men again.

"With very little help on my part, I'd like to introduce to you the new Ms. Sally Carmichael."

Kari stepped to the side and raised her hands like a model on the _Price is Right_.

There was a pause as the men smiled and then adjusted their position to better see the hallway. Sally was nowhere to be seen.

"Sally… get out here!" Kari grumbled from the side of her mouth.

Ethan started to laugh but stopped short as Sally slowly emerged. Looking very uncomfortable, she stepped forward with her hands clinched tight at her waist in a flowered dress and new shoes and a face that looked stunningly beautiful. The gray in her hair was completely gone now, perfectly matching the silky, auburn roots that had started to grow in the months previous. The dress she wore was clinging almost lovingly around Sally's figure in a way that only seemed to underscore her womanly curves. Kari even thought to apply a little makeup on her face, which barely enhanced the beauty that was clearly already there in fine detail. Her cheeks were soft and smooth, but the bones framing them looked to be shaped by an artist's hand in the finest marble. Her nose was unchanged, but somehow seemed smaller and most refined. As Sally looked up, the blue in her eyes appeared to leap from her face to fill the room.

"Holy cow!" Robert said in surprise as he stood together with Ethan. "You look amazing!"

"Doesn't she look beautiful?" Kari said with a smile, looking at her friend admiringly.

Ethan Dodge was at first speechless and he couldn't stop his eyes from straying from the face he thought he knew so well to Sally's ample bosom and shapely curves. As their eyes met again, he could see the woman was blushing through her rouge.

"Completely stunning," Ethan whispered. "Poetry unsaid is a sin, but… Sally… I'm completely lost for words. You're absolutely beautiful."

Sally raised a shaking hand to comb her fingers through her shoulder length hair. She looked like a nervous young girl preparing for her first date. "You… don't think it's too much all at once?" she whispered, never taking her eyes off of Ethan.

Ethan smiled and then hobbled over to the antique cabinet where he pushed some of the buttons inside. An old waltz began to play as he reached out to the beautiful woman who suddenly seemed so out of place in his dreary home.

"Dance with me… please," he asked her simply.

Sally was surprised. "But… your leg."

"I'll manage… please."

Tears were welling in Sally's eyes as he reached out to take Ethan's good hand and together they waltzed in a small circle, staring into each other's eyes as if totally alone in the world. Kari's eyes were full of tears when Robert joined her and she hugged him tight as they watched the two of them dancing together.

It was a quiet morning on Embers Street and the sidewalks snaking their way beneath the old growth trees were strangely clear of its residents. The neighbors, joggers and those walking their dogs should have been relishing the beautiful morning, but the sun was an orphan that day. Inside the meticulously maintained homes, where foreigners made a living keeping up the lawns and gardens, everyday life continued at an oddly somber pace through the breakfast ritual. A few TV sets and radios could be heard murmuring through the trees as the parents within kept their children close. There was a smothering presence over the community, an eerie stillness that remained unmoved even as a scream cut through the morning air. The long and tortured wail made the neighbors cringe behind their locked doors. On any normal day it would have sent them running outside, looking to help the woman they all knew was in obvious pain, but not this morning. Another scream was heard, but nobody moved to go out and see what was wrong; they already knew.

"Who's crying, mommy?" a little girl asked her mother, as her father poured some milk over her cereal.

"Oh it's nothing, baby. Somebody just has their TV on too loud. Eat your breakfast and maybe we'll go to the park today. Would you like that?"

"Yes, mommy. Daddy, are you coming with us?"

The little girl's father sat looking at his wife as another wail split the heavens. He cringed and then kissed his little girl on the forehead.

"All right, sweetheart. Daddy will come too."

"You don't have to go to work today?"

"Not today, pumpkin. Daddy is going to spend the whole day with you and mommy. Eat your cereal and then we'll go, okay?

Another scream was heard and the entire family looked out the kitchen window in response.

Next door, Doctor Gladwin Howard was holding onto his wife as she shuddered in his arms.

"My baby boy; where is he, Glad? Where could he be?" The woman wailed again.

"The police will find him, Lizzy. They have everybody out looking for him." The man looked up at his oldest daughter standing next in the doorway. Looking despondent and tired, she too was crying. "Julie, go get my bag again, please."

The man's wife pushed her husband away. "I don't want another fucking shot! I want my Benny back!"

"Sweetheart, the police will find him. They will, I promise." His cell began to buzz and his wife jumped.

"Answer that! It might be the police; it could be Benny!"

Doctor Howard looked at the number and frowned.

"Who is it? Answer it!"

He stood and slowly raised the cell to his ear. "Hello?" The man could hear the familiar breathing, the hollow sounds of the devil himself wheezing through an oxygen mask. He immediately covered the receiver and shook his head at his wife.

"Shit!" She moaned and fell back to pound the couch. "Shit — shit — shit — shit!

"Take care of her, I have to take this," he told his daughter, and the girl immediately moved in to sooth her mother.

Howard walked into the kitchen and then out the back door to the yard outside. He took a deep breath and then raised the phone to his ear again.

"What have you done with my son?"

"Respect, doctor. I demand it of all my employees… continually."

"Where is my son?" he yelled into the phone, and then cringed as he looked into the kitchen window for his wife again.

"Young Benjamin is safe, have no fear. You should know that your son is as important to me as you, doctor. Have you done as I asked?"

"I… I haven't had time yet. The police were here all day yesterday after we found out Benjamin was missing. How could you do this to us? I was trying to help you!"

"_Was_… would be a very dangerous word to keep within your vocabulary right now, doctor. Are you saying you no longer work for me?"

Howard looked to the sky and stuffed his knuckles into his mouth. It was taking all of his strength to keep from screaming.

"Well, doctor? I'm waiting for an answer."

"You know I can't refuse you, not with you holding my son. Please… let me talk to Benjamin? It would mean so much to his mother if she knew he was unharmed."

"Have I not told you that your son remains in good health? Have I not acknowledged his importance to me? Your son remains intact, doctor."

"I want to speak to him!"

"I think not."

"Please!"

"I am not in the habit of repeating myself, doctor."

"For heaven's sake — he's my boy. You don't understand. His condition makes him very susceptible to…"

"I know all about his condition, doctor. You said yourself that if he remains on his medication the little voices in his head are kept at bay. Despite the fact he is your only son, his psychoses is not rare. In fact, it's been my personal experience that schizophrenia can be induced even in healthy children… given the correct methods of encouragement and stimulus."

Howard was shaking uncontrollably. "I'll do anything you say, anything! But please… don't hurt my boy."

"Good. Then, doctor, we are in agreement. You will continue your work with Sally Carmichael at the University and I will expect to see your daily reports beginning tomorrow."

There was another wail inside the house and Howard flinched.

"You had better go back to your wife, doctor, and have faith when I say… she needs your attention more than your son right now." The phone began to buzz, there was a click, and then it was quiet.

Howard slowly closed his phone and dipped his head. "What have I done? Dear Lord, forgive my greed… and don't let him hurt my Benny."

He heard his wife wail again in unison with the doorbell and then her immediate reaction.

"Is that Benny? See if it's Benny!"

"I have it," Howard motioned to Julie as he headed for the door. He looked out the window to see Kari Dietz and Robert Coleman standing outside.

"Uncle Glad, oh my God, we wanted to come over as soon as we heard the news," Kari said as the door opened. She immediately stepped inside. "Where's Aunt Liz?"

They could hear her aunt screaming in the next room. "Benny? Is that Benny?"

"Jesus." Kari threw her purse down behind the door and then ran into the next room. Robert could hear the wife shriek again when she saw it wasn't her son.

"Thanks for coming, Robert; I'm glad you're here."

The detective stepped inside. "How you holding up?"

Doctor Howard shook his head somberly as he closed the door. "I can only hope you've brought something new. Nobody from the police or the FBI has called this morning."

"They knew I was coming over, so they gave me what updates they had." There was another muffled whimper in the adjoining room. Howard looked longingly toward his wife's voice and then directed them to the right.

"Let's go in here."

Coleman followed Howard into a paneled library and the doctor quietly slid the pocket doors closed before turning to face his friend again. "So… what are they telling you? What do they know?"

"Not much, I'm afraid; in fact, nothing more than yesterday. I've pulled some strings to get the forensics moving on the note the kidnappers left in your son's dorm room, but that won't be available until tonight. Frankly, I wouldn't leave a lot of hope on that front. This looks like a very professional job. I know the lead detective on the case and he said your son was taken after class on his way to the campus library. Then the kidnappers took the time to enter his dorm room unseen to leave the note. That shows a lot of determination and planning, Glad. I doubt they left anything for us to find there."

Howard heaved as he sat behind his desk. His wife could still be heard moaning through the doors. Coleman watched the man closely and was troubled by what he saw. The doctor seemed preoccupied to him.

"Listen, Glad… is there something else going on here? Anything else I need to know?"

The doctor looked up at him and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. You just seem… a little distant in all of this."

Howard thought for a moment and then looked resigned. "You must understand, Robert… nothing in my life takes precedence over the well-being of my family, but there is something very important I need to tell Kari… it's regarding her friend Mrs. Carmichael."

"About Sally? What is it?"

Howard looked at him and shook his head. "You must think me crazy to be worried about this… and at a time like this, but I can't help it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Sally is in a lot of trouble, Robert, more than she realizes. After reviewing all of my test results, I've come to the conclusion that she doesn't have that much time left to live."

Robert was surprised. After seeing Sally dancing with Ethan the day before, the news of her questionable health came as a shock.

"What's wrong with her?"

Howard heaved. "I could give you a lot of medical answers, but I believe without treatment her condition will continue to run its course until the end."

"What do you mean, 'run its course'? How does something like this end?"

"Well… she'll continue to get younger until be becomes a child again, and then a baby, and then…"

"Jesus. You're kidding?"

Howard stood, he looked very nervous. "We have to convince Mrs. Carmichael to come to the University."

Robert frowned. "What a minute. Why are we even talking about this? Your son is missing, Glad. Nobody expects you to drop everything just to…"

"Can you get Sally to the hospital!" Howard yelped, cutting him off.

Robert was surprised again. "Are you saying… that… you _can_ help her?"

"I think so, but I won't know for sure unless I can get her to my lab."

Robert shook his head. "That won't be easy, Glad. She's changed a lot since you last saw her. You wouldn't believe your eyes."

"All the more reason she should be with us. Her condition will likely accelerate going forward unless we find a way to suppress what's happening to her. She must be convinced to let me help her."

Robert stared at Howard for a time and then, "But even if she'll agree to go there, you won't be able to help her — not with all of this going on here."

"Oh — I'll be there. I've set everything else in my life aside.

The detective was stunned. He could see the determination in Howard's face and once again the cop was suspicious. Howard's purpose was out of place given the situation with his son.

"Are you all right?"

"You must allow me to speak to her. There's so much at stake."

"Okay, I'll pull Kari aside so you can explain it to her."

"Mrs. Carmichael must be in the University hospital by tonight. Any further delay could be detrimental to her life."

"Tonight? Are you planning on working tonight?"

"If Carmichael is there, yes… that's where I'll be."

"But… what about your son? Your wife is going to need you here."

"Julie and Janice are here. They can take care of her."

The detective's cell started to ring. He seemed frozen to the spot and didn't react to the call until the fourth buzz.

"Sorry, I'm still on duty." He raised his phone.

"Coleman here. Yeah, Doug. No… what about it? Yeah, so?" Howard watched the detective's face fall. "You're kidding. Where? Jesus. Who's working the case? Fine, did he leave you his cell?" Coleman started to rifle in his pockets and Howard handed him a pen from his desk. "Wait… okay go ahead." He scribbled quickly. "Got it. Yeah I'll call him right now. Thanks for the call again, Doug. I appreciate it." He closed the phone.

"Something about Benny?"

Coleman looked at his friend. "Oh, I'm sorry — no. Apparently, somebody was murdered at Mercy."

"Murdered? Inside the hospital itself? Is it somebody we know?"

"A nurse by the name of Andrew Johnson."

Howard frowned. "That name does sound familiar, but I don't know why."

"He's a friend of Kari's. That's why the homicide detective on the case wants me to call him. They want me to ask Kari to come down to the precinct for some questions."

"Kari? But why would they want to talk to my niece? She wouldn't have anything to do with…"

"No — no, it's nothing like that. This is normal procedure because they worked together at the hospital and because the two of them dated for a while before Kari and I hooked up."

Howard looked angry. "Christ — Kari is already under a lot of pressure with Benny and her friend, and now this? Is it really necessary to tell her about this now?"

"I'm afraid it is. It's either me or the homicide squad knocking on her front door." The detective turned to look out the window. He seemed to be in deep thought.

"What's the matter, Robert?"

The detective turned to him. "This Johnson guy… he was one of the nurses caring for Sally Carmichael during all of those tests you were doing on her."

Howard's eyes seemed to drift away to think. "Oh yes, I remember him now; a black man, right? He was quite good for Mrs. Carmichael, always kept her laughing. Oh my God, I can't believe he was murdered."

"Yeah, down in the hospital basement. Shot in the head.

"Goodness, that's terrible."

"Yeah… terrible." His stare returned to the window again.

"Robert?"

"It's just that… Johnson was the second person attacked who…"

There was another pause. "Robert? What is it? What are you thinking?"

"…who was spending time with Sally." Coleman looked at the doctor again. "Ethan Dodge was attacked too."

Howard was taken aback. "And you think the two crimes… might be connected?"

"Probably not… probably just me over-thinking things again, but it's kind of strange." He opened his phone again and started punching numbers.

"Detective Mitchell? Yeah — hey, this is Coleman, West Precinct? Doug gave me the message. No, I haven't told her yet. We're over there at her uncle's house; yeah, the kidnapping.

"Listen, have you guys narrowed down the time of death yet for Johnson?" He listened for a while and then, "So it happened in the middle of the day? Hmmm, have you checked for elevator cameras? A big hospital like that is bound to have… And?" He listened again. "I know there's a lot of people using the elevators but…" The detective turned to look out the window again. "And did you see anything that caught your eye?" He listened again. "Let me ask you something… did you see a big guy in the elevator with Johnson before that time? Maybe two big guys — in black suits? Really? And did he follow Johnson out the elevator?" He paused again. "Okay, listen — when I bring Kari in, I'll need to get you caught up on some things that I've been following down at the hospital. I think it might be related." He looked at his watch and then to Howard. "Ah… give me… about an hour?" Howard nodded. "Great… I'll see you then." He hung up.

"So?"

The detective was hurriedly putting his cell into his suit pocket. "They got some film of Johnson getting off one of the hospital elevators around the time of his death. They can't really tell if he got off at the basement floor or not, but they're assuming he did. They caught him on tape talking to a large man in a black suit in the elevator as he was getting off."

"Were they fighting?"

"No, nothing like that and the man didn't follow Johnson out."

"But you suspect him?"

Robert was writing in his notepad. "Yeah… maybe. He didn't follow him out, but that doesn't mean the guy wasn't smart enough to go back up and then down again in the stairwell. The squad has requested the stairwell tapes from hospital security. They should know more by the time I get Kari to the precinct.

"I better get going. It isn't going to be easy to tell Kari about this, but the sooner I get her downtown the better." He looked at Howard again. "Can you help me break her away?"

"Of course." The doctor headed for the door, but Robert stopped him as he passed.

"Listen, Glad. You would tell me if you were in any trouble wouldn't you?"

The doctor was surprised. "Trouble?"

"Yes, if there was anything wrong… if you were in trouble in any way."

"Robert? Why… would ask me such a thing?"

Coleman studied the man closely. "It's just that Sally's case is rather extraordinary, isn't it?"

Howard frowned. "Yes… it is, absolutely."

"It's just that… two people close to Sally have been seriously hurt or, in this case, killed. First Ethan Dodge is attacked and then there's this Johnson murder. You've been very close to Sally as well." There was another moan heard in the next room that jerked Howard's attention toward the door." He frowned again and then surprise seemed to dawn on him.

"You think the people that took Benny might be involved in these other attacks?" Coleman didn't reply. He was staring at his friend for any unexpected reaction, any nuance of acknowledgement in his expression.

Howard slowly moved to take his turn at the window. What Robert was suggesting was so obvious to him now. Of course the attack on Ethan Dodge could be related. He recalled the conversion with Bezuhov and how upset he was that Sally was planning to leave the hospital; _would that beast of a man hurt somebody like Ethan to keep Sally in the hospital?_ He frowned. But what about this Johnson murder? He was one of Mrs. Carmichael primary care givers along with his niece. Why would Bezuhov hurt him?

"Glad? Is there something you need to tell me?"

Howard almost forgot Robert was standing in the room with him. He turned and tried to force a look of bewilderment. "I… really don't see how these things at the hospital and my son could possibly be related."

"Are you sure?"

"I pray to God you're wrong, Robert."

Coleman could see it in his eyes. There was something in the man's response that told the detective he was right in his assumptions. He stepped closer to his friend and placed his hands on his shoulders. He stared straight into his eyes.

"Have you ever heard of a man named Bezuhov?"

Howard's eyes widened with horror. The question had come so far out of nowhere that Howard couldn't control his reaction to it. And his response left him naked and vulnerable to Robert's inspection. The doctor tried to turn away, but Coleman snapped him back.

"You do know him, don't you?"

Howard's normally clear and analytical mind was fumbling as his son's face began to swim through his mind. "Of course… I ah… I know him. He's one of the major supporters of my work."

"Supporters of your work? What work?"

"My work on aging at the university. He's a very generous man. In fact, his generosity has allowed me and my team to advance far in our studies."

"Have you met with this man?"

"Yes… once, before I took the Director's post. That's when the University President told me about Bezuhov and suggested that I should meet with him at his home."

"You know where the man lives?"

"In Los Angeles, yes." Howard was now in a full panic for his son. He knew that if Bezuhov found out he was talking to the police about him; he tried to remain calm. "Robert, I don't understand. Bezuhov is a very old man. For God's sake he's over a hundred and dying. He lives in a secluded mansion up in the hills in a wheelchair."

"But he's rich, right? Rich enough to fund your work on aging. I want his address."

Panic reached in to snatch Howard's heart. "I… I can't give you his address."

"Why not?"

"Because Mr. Bezuhov is an extremely private man. I would never have said his name if you hadn't mentioned it first. How do you know him?"

Coleman finally released his friend. "Because I think the people I suspect of hurting Ethan Dodge work for him."

"What?"

"That's right. I don't have any proof yet, but I believe one of his men was caught on tape speaking to Johnson just before he was killed at the hospital."

Howard fell back in surprise.

"Glad, I want you to tell me the truth now. Is it possible that his man… this Bezuhov, has your son?"

Howard immediately turned away.

"Does he have Benny?"

"Of course not."

"You're lying, doctor."

Howard jerked up to glare back. "How dare you… suggest…"

"Does he know about Sally?

"What?"

"Does Bezuhov know about your work with Sally Carmichael?"

"Well… yes… of course he knows about her. He knows about all of the patients in my studies. He sees the results of my work on a weekly basis."

"Is this why you're willing to work on Sally's case at the university even while your son is in danger?"

"Excuse me?"

"He wants Sally Carmichael, doesn't he? This is all about her. Why? Why does he want her so bad?"

Howard tried to smile. "Robert, I think your detective training is running amuck. I don't see any connection between one of the leading supporters of my work and…" he swallowed hard, "… my son. I think you have let yourself…"

"And what if I told you that I won't let you take Sally to the university?"

Howard looked sick, suddenly deathly ill. His mouth dropped and then began to quiver.

"I thought so. You're scared of this man — this Bezuhov guy. Did he threaten you?"

Howard didn't reply.

"Does he have Benny?"

Howard still didn't reply.

"Jesus Christ, Glad. You know who has your son and you're not telling us? What the hell is wrong with you? Do you think…?"

"Robert — stop it! I never said Mr. Bezuhov had Benny. I never said anything of the sort."

"Yes you did, Glad. You most certainly did. You're saying it right now — I can see it all over your face, and I'm going to tell the FBI what I suspect, even if you won't."

"DON'T DO THAT!" Howard shot back. "For God's sake, Robert… who do you think you are?"

"I'm your friend, Glad. The man has your son and you probably know where they have him hidden in LA. You're gonna fucking tell the FBI what you know, or so help me…"

"Stop it! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" Howard was yelling. "I want you out of my house, Robert. You're upsetting me and you're about to upset my family. Take Kari to the police station and do what you have to do, but don't you dare contact Bezuhov. You don't understand anything; you don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh — I know exactly what's going on here. You might be the smartest man I know, but you're way out of your league here. And you're betting your son's life you can give this man what he wants before they hurt him."

"Get out! Get out of my house!" Howard headed for the door. He slid the panels open, stepped into the hallway and immediately opened the front door. "Get out! I'll send Kari along behind you."

Robert was fuming, but he could plainly see Howard was scared to death. The detective walked passed the doctor and stepped out on the porch, but turned quickly to face his friend again.

"I won't let Sally go to the University, Glad. I'm not going to just stand by and let her get hurt too. That's not going to happen on my watch. No fucking way! You tell your friend Bezuhov that."

"He's not my friend," Howard said feeling ashamed as he closed the door.

Robert stood outside looking in. "You could have fooled me"

19


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15d03

Chapter 15 (Draft 03)

An hour later at the police station, Robert was hugging Kari who was crying on his shoulder.

"Why would anybody do such a thing? AJ was so gentle." She looked up at Robert and sniffed. "I don't understand."

"I know," he whispered back. "We'll find out who did it Kari, I promise."

She looked at him again, "Oh my God, we have to call his grandmother in Richland. She'll be devastated. Andrew was her only grandchild. They only had each other."

"We've already taken care of that, Ms. Dietz," said another detective sitting across the table between them.

Kari looked at the man. "How did she take the news? Is she okay?"

"I… really don't know. I wasn't the one who made the call."

Kari fell into Roberts arms and started to cry again.

"We appreciate you coming in to talk to us." The detective looked at Robert. "We're finished here; we have a taxi waiting outside to take her home."

"A taxi?" Kari looked at Robert. "But… aren't you taking me home?"

"I can't, sweetheart. I have to join a meeting with the Captain and the FBI about Benny. I'll stop by to check on you just as soon as I can. It'll only be a couple of hours, but I don't want you hanging around waiting for me here.

She sniffed again and nodded. "Okay."

They all stood and the door to the interview room opened. "This officer will escort you out to your cab, Miss Dietz. Thanks for coming in and… I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Thanks for calling her a cab, Bob," Robert said to the other detective.

Kari nodded and then kissed Robert before leaving the room.

"Nice girl," the detective said to Robert, as he watched Kari continue her sobbing down the hallway. "If you'd like to go with her, I can fill you in after the meeting."

"He's staying here," said their captain who entered the room together with two other men dressed in suits.

"Detection Robert Coleman, this is Field Agent Anthony Ramirez of the FBI and Special Agent Roma Koslov." They all shook hands. "And this is "Bob Shoales. He's another one of my detectives who's been investigating the hospital murder."

"Tony," Ramirez said to Robert who was still looking at Koslov.

"Special Agent?"

"Roma is attached to the counterintelligence office in Washington. You might remember the Hanssen espionage case in Virginia a few years back? He was involved in that."

They all sat at the table together and Koslov opened a folder.

"Your man Kirill Bezuhov is one nasty customer." Koslov removed a black and white photograph of a man in a Russian Military uniform. "He was one of Stalin's personal assassins."

Robert looked at the picture and frowned. "How old is this photo? Is this the best we've got on him?"

"Afraid so — he's been attached to the Soviet Consulate in California since the Reagan administration, long before we required updated photos."

The Captain of Detectives looked at the photo and then passed it back to the FBI again. "Stalin, you say? How old is this guy?"

"Doctor Howard told me he's over a hundred," Robert answered.

"That makes sense," Koslov replied. "He was here when the first Soviet consulate opened in 1933 after diplomatic relations between the USSR and the US was initially established. That's really how he made his fortune. He controlled all the visas and passports prior to the war, so most of the Soviet black market was under this thumb. He was also one of the original founders of the Red Mafia." Koslov looked at Robert and frowned.

"You said this Doctor Howard… he actually saw Bezuhov?"

"That's what he said. He described him as old, in a wheelchair and dying."

"Yeah, well… he's been dying for a very, very long time. I heard he was dying when I first entered counterintelligence more than twenty years ago." Koslov looked at the photo again. "But to know somebody who's actually seen him recently is amazing."

"So what does this Russian want with Sally Carmichael?" Robert asked him.

Koslow closed the folder and looked up. "I don't know. Who is she?"

Robert filled everybody in on Sally's recent trips to the hospital, her relationship with Ethan Dodge, and his suspicions that Bezuhov was responsible for Ethan's attack and the murder of Kari's friend, Andrew Johnson.

"We got anything on the boyfriend… this Ethan Dodge?" Koslov asked Ramirez.

"Just a buyer and trader of rare books — his file is clean." Ramirez looked at Robert with a puzzled expression. "He's pretty young for your friend Carmichael, isn't he?"

"What do you mean?" The captain asked him.

Robert took a deep breath, looking somewhat uneasy as he glanced around the room. Perhaps it was because he had gotten to know Sally Carmichael a little better over the last few days that made him more respectful of her person outside her presence."Yeah, you could say that. Sally is ninety three years old."

"Holy shit. Your friend Dodge… he likes the geriatric?" said the other police detective.

"Shut up, Bob. You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"What's to know? This guy's doing a ninety year broad? I'm just sayin'…"

"Hey — fuck you, Bob."

"All right, knock that shit off. We've got work to do here," their captain fired back.

Robert was still glaring at his smiling friend when Ramirez spoke again.

"So what's the connection between Sally Carmichael and this other doctor friend of yours… this Doctor Howard Gladwin?"

Robert looked uneasy again as he spoke. "Glad is studying Sally Carmichael's case. He's some kind of aging specialist down at the university."

Ramirez opened another folder. "Specializing in gene expression and syndromes associated with human aging."

"Yeah, something like that — right."

"You called him Glad. Do you know this man personally?"

"The doc is his girlfriend's uncle," Bob said.

"So this Doctor Howard is Miss Carmichael's doctor?"

"Not yet, but he's trying. He wants Sally to check herself into the university for more tests." Robert hesitated again.

"Yeah, so what is it? Other than her age, what's wrong with the woman?"

"She has a very rare condition that Howard is interested in. Sally Carmichael is… ah… getting younger." Robert let these words settle in a bit before looking around the room again.

"Getting younger? What does that mean?"

"I mean she's… you know… getting younger. With every passing day, she looks younger. You can almost see it happening. It's really very startling." Everybody was now frowning at Robert.

"I know it sounds crazy, but it's true…"

"Wait a minute. What are we talking about here? Is she on some kind of new drug to reduce the lines in her face, or?

"No, no… you don't understand." Robert reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a photograph. "I got this picture off a newsreel from a couple of nights ago so I'd have something to show you." He slid the picture across the table at them. "As you can see, Sally doesn't look her age at all." The picture showed Sally being pushed by a number of reporters in front of Ethan's townhouse.

"Oh yeah, I remember this, but I thought it was some kind of joke," Bob replied, looking down at the photograph. "Holy shit… she looks younger than me!"

Their captain picked up the photograph to look at it more closely. "This is Sally Carmichael, the woman that's supposed to be ninety three years old?"

"That's bullshit, man," Bob retorted with a chuckle. Even with all the gray hair that chick's a hottie! Hey… maybe I should start taking whatever med she's on. Can you get a script for that?"

"God damn it, Bob. Find some focus!" blistered the captain before looking at Robert again. "Are you sure about this?"

Robert looked frustrated. "I've watched the change myself over the last few months. I'm telling you the truth — she's definitely getting younger. My friend Kari has known her longer than anybody and that's why she contacted her uncle to take a look at her."

Koslov took the photo and frowned. "So what's all this got to do with Bezuhov?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"You think Bezuhov has taken Doctor Howard's son? What's his name?"

"Benjamin Howard, and yes, I do."

"Why?"

"I — don't — fucking — know!" Robert was getting angry. "Look, I'm convinced whatever this guy wants — it's all about Sally Carmichael. It's something about her condition. First, her friend Ethan Dodge is attacked and now Andrew Johnson is killed. Both of them were very close to Sally. The two thugs who were seen in the vicinity during these attacks work for Bezuhov. One was seen on a camera in the elevator talking to AJ right before the estimated time of death, and the cameras in the parking garage where Ethan was attacked were disabled — a real professional job. And now, Glad's all but admitted to me that this nut-job has his son Benny. I'm telling you, he's fucking the guy!"

Koslov looked at Ramirez and shrugged. "Taking the kids of an enemy has always been one of Bezuhov's favorite tactics."

The captain motioned to Robert. "I'm still missing a motive here. First of all, why's he pressing so hard on the doctor?"

"It all comes back to Sally Carmichael again. He wants her. More precisely, he wants Howard working on her. It's become clear to me that Kari's uncle is scared to death of this guy to the extent that he's more interested in working with Sally than finding his own son. That tells me Bezuhov has Benny. Glad is working on Sally for the sake of his son."

"But you said Doctor Gladwin has been studying Carmichael's case since before Dodge was attacked. Yet the doctor's son was only taken yesterday. Why the sudden rush?" Bob asked him. "Why's the Russian so interested in an old woman gone young? If he really wanted her, wouldn't he just take her too?"

Koslov leaned back to think. "He most certainly would take her, but that only means he doesn't want her physically — at least not yet. It's obvious he wants what Doctor Howard can get from studying her." He looked at the rest. "It's got to be something really very important to him."

"Maybe we should bring Doctor Howard in and put some heat on him," the captain suggested. "Make him tell us what he knows. If we can break him down, we might have enough to get a search warrant for Bezuhov's place in LA."

Koslov looked doleful. "I don't think that'll work. We've tried numerous times to get a warrant to search Bezuhov's house without success. He has a lot of friends in very high places in our government. And even if you did get a warranty, you won't find the boy there. He's not that stupid."

"But if we sweated Howard some, we might understand what's going on a little better," Bob replied. He looked at Ramirez. "What do you think?"

The agent thought for a moment and shrugged. "In any situation where the details are not known, the default methodology is to take away something we know Bezuhov wants and then wait for him to make a mistake. Taking the doctor in house for a few days might get a response."

Robert looked somewhat afraid. "Normally, I might agree with that tactic, but in this case we have another problem. Glad said Sally was dying."

The men in the room looked surprised.

"Are you sure he wasn't just telling you that to get her into the university? If my son were at risk, I think I'd say just about anything to…"

"No," Robert said, cutting Ramirez off, "I don't think he's lying about this. If you saw the way Sally looked a few months ago and the way she looks today, you'd have to ask yourself… where does her condition finally stop? According to Glad, Sally Carmichael will continue to de-age until she becomes a baby again and then whatever comes after that."

"Jesus Christ," Bob said, shaking his head disbelievingly. "I take back what I said about getting her meds."

Robert ignored his friend. "It saw the panic Glad's face when I told him I wouldn't let him take Sally to his lab, but honestly… that might be the only place she can go to save her life."

"What does the woman want to do? Does she want to put herself under Doctor Howard care again at the university?"

"No, she doesn't…"

"So what are we talking about here? If the woman doesn't want to go…"

Robert sighed. "She doesn't know yet that her life is at risk. Kari was going to have that talk with her today, but that was before the kidnapping and now the Johnson's murder."

There was a pause before the captain spoke again. "Okay, let's assume Bezuhov wants the woman for… whatever reason. And let's assume he was responsible for killing Johnson at the hospital and kidnapping the Howard kid. Do we have a line on his soldiers in the field yet?"

"Yeah, I do," Robert replied, sliding over to pick up his own folder. "Ethan Dodge told me he overheard them talking in Russian in an elevator, saying they were there to guard Sally."

"Guard her? Your friend Dodge, he understands Russian, does he?"

"Enough to understand that much, I suppose. I got some pictures of the men from a hospital tape and through another connection I got a report on three of the four goons." He passed the pdf hardcopies he got from his friend Dan.

The FBI agents looked at the pictures and the names on the files and then the name of Bezuhov listed as their country sponsor. They looked at each other.

"Where did you get these files? This looks like Homeland Security stuff."

"Don't ask," Robert said with a smirk, ignoring their frowns. "Given what you've told me about Bezuhov, I'm a little surprised he would allow his name to be listed in the file as the sponsor of these thugs."

Ramirez was still studying the papers. "He wouldn't allow it. It was probably put in the file by somebody in-house, someone assigned to track movement around him."

"I know this man," Koslow said, pointing at one of the files. "Igorek Popov. He's a third tier maniac out of Kadykchan. His father worked in the tin mines there. You'll want to stay away from this one as best you can. And if he reaches in his boot in your presence, shoot him dead unless you like having your throat cut. "

"I want to know where these guys are today," said the captain. He looked at Koslov. "Can you contact whoever is watching Bezuhov and tell them to call us if he sees them?" Koslov nodded.

"Bob, I want you focused on the hospital murder. Get any film available into the lab around the time of death. Elevators, stairwells, corridors… check it all. I want to see something showing these guys next to Johnson besides just an elevator ride."

"I should be helping him," Robert added.

"No. I want you to stay on Sally Carmichael. Is she still staying at the Dodge house?" Robert nodded. "Good.

"Now, what are going to do about her going to the university? Are we going to allow that?"

The FBI agents looked at each other and nodded. "We don't have a clue where Bezuhov might be keeping the Howard boy," Koslov said. "If we bring the doctor in for questioning, or get in the way of their plans for studying the Carmichael woman more, we could be putting the kid at risk. I think we have enough evidence here to bug Howard's lab and phones at the university. With you and your girlfriend looking over Carmichael like a concerned friend, we might be able to get more while she's being tested. She should be convinced to go to the university for the sake of the kid and her own health."

"I don't want Kari anywhere near this mess. People are getting killed here," Robert answered.

"I understand your concern, but listen: her presence at the university is the only thing validating your involvement here. Bezuhov is going to know everything about every person connected to Carmichael. He's always very thorough. I guarantee you he knows about Kari Dietz, about you, about Ethan Dodge, about the doctor and his family; he'll know everything from your shoe size to where you like to eat. Given that fact, it would be best to keep Kari as close to you as possible."

Robert looked more concerned than ever, but nodded his approval of the plan. "Of course, this is all dependent on Carmichael's willingness to be tested more," he added.

"If she's been made to think her life is at risk, why wouldn't she agree?" Ramirez asked.

Robert nodded again, but knew if it were up to Sally alone, she would probably refuse to go. The detective was hopeful her relationship with Ethan Dodge would move her to comply.

"One more thing," Koslov added. "Your captain agrees with us that nobody but those in this room are to know anything about what we're doing when it comes to Bezuhov. He has moles everywhere."

"Oh come on…" Bob started to argue.

"Listen to me. I've been involved in too many investigations gone wrong where Bezuhov is concerned. There's no other way to say it: It's not _if_ he finds out what we're doing, it's only about when he finds out."

"Yeah, but…"

The captain stood. "That's the way it's going to be. Don't tell anybody about this case and don't mention Bezuhov or Carmichael's name outside this room. Your reports will be verbal and only to me personally. No electronic transfers, nothing left in my mailbox or in my office. Does everybody understand?" The two detectives nodded.

"Good. Our best chance of saving this boy from this maniac is to make him believe we're all locked up investigating this murder at the hospital."

Kari had the taxi driver stop at Ethan's townhouse and soon she was being fawned over my Sally in the kitchen.

"Here, my dear, drink this." Sally was pouring her some tea and then looked at Ethan who was sitting at the table next to her.

"I'm really sorry to hear about your friend at the hospital," Ethan said apologetically. "Do they know who might have… you know… hurt him?"

Kari took a drink of the tea. "No, not yet," she said, shaking. She broke down and started to cry again.

Sally swooped in quickly to hold her. "Oh my sweet, sweet child. There-there, yes it's a terrible thing. Andrew was such a wonderful man to me at the hospital, a field of daffodils and tulips to a sick old woman. Who could do such a thing?" Kari wept into Sally's shoulder as her phone started to buzz.

"Oh… that's probably Robert." Kari said, quickly wiping her nose as she opened the phone. "Hello?

"Oh, Uncle Glad, hi… any news about Benny? No? How's Aunt Liz? No… Robert is still at the station. They were in a meeting about it when I when I left, so I'm sure he'll want to call you as soon as possible. What?" Kari looked at Sally in the chair next to her. "Ah, no, I haven't talked to her about that yet. I just got here. No, I understand the urgency. I just haven't had a chance…"

Ethan and Sally could hear Doctor Gladwin's voice increasing in volume over the phone.

"Yes I understand. I will, Glad, I promise. But… are you sure you're up to working? With Benny still missing, I thought you might…" Her uncle's voice was loud again.

"All right. Okay. I understand. I will. As early as I can tomorrow, all right. I love you and please… give Aunt Liz my love too." She closed the phone.

"Jesus, what a day."

"Any news about your cousin?" asked Ethan.

"No, not yet. Uncle Glad is still waiting for Robert to call him."

"My dear, if Ethan is agreeable, you should stay here with us. You really should be with those who love you at a time like this," Sally suggested, looking over at Ethan.

The man didn't hesitate. "Absolutely. There's plenty of room here, for both you and Robert if you like."

Kari wasn't sure. "Thanks, but I really should wait to hear back from Robert before making any plans." She looked at Sally again.

"Sal, I have something very important I need to talk to you about."

Sally seemed temporarily surprised. Assuming Kari needed her help more, she leaned in quickly to take her hands. "Yes, dear. I'll do anything I can to help you, you know that. What is it?"

"Thank you, but this isn't about me. It's about you and about some of the test results from the hospital."

Once again, Sally looked surprised. She slowly fell back, looking much more uncomfortable than the moment before."

"I… I don't understand. Is there something that you need to tell me?"

"Yes, I'm afraid there is." Kari looked over at Ethan who immediately understood his place.

"I should leave and let the two of you talk." Laboring to use his cane, he slowly got to his feet. Although the casts on his arm and leg had recently been removed, it still hurt Sally to see him struggling.

"No — please, Ethan," Sally stopped him. "If you would, I'd rather you were here with me." He smiled and immediately sat back down.

Kari leaned in, looking very nervous. "Uncle Glad told me to tell you that your condition is very serious, Sal."

"Serious? But I feel wonderful, never better."

"Yes, I know. In fact you're in perfect health… at the moment."

"At… at the moment? You looked worried, my dear."

"Yeah… well…Uncle Glad wanted to talk to you personally about his findings, but with Benny taken and all, he's… he's asked me to…"

"Enough of the pleasantries, young lady. I might look a little younger, but I've lived long enough to know life is too short to waste it with all the formalities — it's better to be frank. So what is your uncle telling you?"

"Well, like I said, your current health is fine, but he also said unless they find a way to stop the de-aging process, it's not going to stop. You'll keep getting younger until…"

"Oh dear," Sally said in obvious surprise. "I never thought about that. How young will I…?"

Kari took a deep breath. "Unless they can find a way to stop this, you'll go all the way back. Back to being a child, then a baby, and then de-mature to the point where your body cannot sustain itself outside a womb."

"My God," Ethan said, lowering his head.

Sally didn't seem all that concerned. "And does your uncle believe he can stop this?"

"He said there are a few things they would like to try at the university starting tomorrow morning. They need to…"

"To run more tests…" Sally finished for her.

"Yes, Sally, that's right. They want to run more tests to see what can be done."

"So, at the moment, he doesn't know if he can help me… or stop what's happening to me."

Kari looked at her friend and couldn't stop the tears stinging her eyes.

"I've seen that look in your eyes at my bedside before, child. I can see your heart as clear as the brightest moon on a winter's night."

"I'm sorry, Sal. I know you hate going back into the hospital again, but we have to do something. Otherwise we might lose you again."

Sally thought about it and then smiled. "I have seen so many seasons come and go. I've had a very full life and I'm looking forward to finally seeing my creator face to face." She paused and then, "I will admit over the last few years I've come to believe I didn't need all this extra time on God's good earth, to receive more than what I've already been given." She looked at Ethan. "But I know now I've been blessed again." He smiled back at her.

Sally stood and reached for the teapot on the stove again and returned to refill their cups. "So it would seem that I have a choice: I can spend the rest of my healthy days in a hospital as your uncle works to find a way to stop whatever is happening to me, or I can accept my fate and enjoy what remaining time I have with my friends."

"Sally, please, can I say something?" Ethan asked her. He looked worried at the choice Sally was about to make.

Sally was stoic. "Of course, Ethan, I most certainly would appreciate your input."

"I hope you decide to go to the university."

Sally looked surprised and then suspicious. "Really?"

"Yes — I do.

"In the short time I've known you I've come to realize you're probably the bravest person I've ever known. In light of the things you've already been forced to endure, in all of this, your courage has been stunning to me."

"But…?"

"But… if you decide to turn down Doctor Gladwin's offer… I wouldn't think of that as being brave; I think I know you better than that now."

Sally's expression fell. She was suddenly caught with the deepest but hidden feelings of affection. "And… so what, in your mind, would be… the bravest thing I could do?"

His lips quivered as he smiled and reached up to take her hand. "Live, Sally. To do whatever it takes to live longer." He stared at her lovingly and then slowly, almost remorsefully, he lowered his head.

Sally stepped forward to stand over him. "You seem to have shamed yourself, Ethan," she whispered. She reached out with a shaking hand to lovingly stroke his hair. "Why is that?"

He looked up at her again, his eyes wet with tears. "Yes, I have. I give you my advice admittedly with a selfish heart. I want you to live on, Sally. Live on… and be with me."

Kari covered her mouth to keep from gasping. She could see the love pouring out of Ethan's soul like the brightest light from an angel's center. And Sally standing over him, her own brightness shining forth to merge with his. Kari was about to look away, to allow that moment in time its due privacy, when Sally spoke again.

"Kari."

Kari looked up at her friend and then uncovered her mouth to speak. "Yes, Sally."

The woman was still staring down at Ethan's face as she spoke. "Kari, you are closer to me than any other person left in his world. I hope you know… I've come to think of you as my own daughter."

Kari began to shudder with emotion. "Oh, Sal. I love you so much."

Still, Sally never took her eyes off of Ethan. "You continue to bless me, child. But I need your honesty now. I need it more now than when you sat by my deathbed. I need it… because I find myself lost at the moment."

"I'll do anything for you, Sally."

Staring down at the man who had tears in his eyes below her, Sally finally asked, "What do you think of this man, Kari?"

Kari covered her mouth in surprise again and closed her eyes. Tears poured down her cheeks and then through her fingers.

"Kari?"

Kari finally spoke. "Sally, I believe Ethan Dodge is a wonderful man. He's kind, and so very gentle. You can see his heart."

Sally finally looked at her, her expression detached. "I would agree." She looked down and stroked his hair again and then turned away. She walked toward the door of the kitchen and had almost left the room before Ethan spoke again.

"Sally? Please…"

Without turning, Sally Carmichael raised a hand to steady herself against the doorway.

"I'm tired now, so very tired. But as tired as I am, I know I'll be up all night."

Kari stood and began to come forward.

"I pray you leave me be, child." Kari stopped. "I have much to consider before morning, so much to ask of our creator in the hours ahead. Good night."

She left the kitchen, and Kari and Ethan sat quietly together as they listened to Sally's footsteps slowly ascending the wooden staircase in the hallway. Her footfalls sounded unsteady and wavering like an old woman struggling to remain upright.

19


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16d03

Chapter 16 (Draft 03)

The oxygen tank next to Bezuhov's bed was hissing in the dark while he dreamed. He was reliving a moment in time in his early twenties, an ambitious youth looking to prove his value to his superiors. He was so eager in those days. It was wintertime in Moscow before the war, and the young man was peering around a corner at five other men standing in a circle under a flickering streetlamp. The wind howled down the dark street, causing him to fall into the shadows in response. He peered out again to see two of the men moving away.

Bezuhov sprinted back into the alley as a dog in one of the apartments above him started to bark. He rounded the corner and continued to run until he entered another alleyway. The wind howled again as he turned north once more and toward the lighted street ahead. Reaching the end, he peered out to see the two men approaching his position. The young man looked across the street to see his comrades in a parked truck, waiting for his signal. He gave the slightest wave and the truck's lights flashed in response. The two men were huddled against the biting wind as they passed by without noticing him.

When their backs were moving away, Bezuhov stepped in behind and raised a sock full of bolts. The blow was quick and smashed into the skull of one of the men with a dull but fatal thud. The man yelped and then crumbled as the truck began moving toward them.

The other man watched his friend fall before turning to see the cause. He saw the young man coming at him with the sock and caught his arm before he could deliver another blow. They fell to the ground together and the defending man began to scream.

"Помощь! Убийство! Убийство! Помощь!" ("Help! Murder! Murder! Help!")

The truck screeched to a halt as the pair rolled in the dirt and two more men jumped out to grab the screamer.

"Помощь! Убийство! Правительство убивает нас! Кто - то помогает!" ("Help! Murder! The government is murdering us! Somebody help!")

The man was immediately silenced with a blow to the jaw and then dragged to the back of the truck. The doors were opened and the man was quickly thrown inside.

"Ждите!" ("Wait,") Bezuhov whispered. He looked down at the dead man still bleeding in the street. He bent down to push body over and removed his coat and shoes. Throwing them into the back of the truck, he said, ("It should look like a simple robbery.")

The doors were closed and the truck sped away before anybody in the surrounding buildings gathered enough courage to look outside. Nobody saw a thing.

When the man slowly opened his eyes an hour later, he could hear a woman crying through the stone wall next to him. He jumped when the woman suddenly screamed. As his eyes began to clear, he could already feel the huge lump on the top of his head throbbing with pain. His jaw was very sore, maybe broken, and some of his front teeth were missing. The man was alone and startled to find his body tied to a chair. The woman next door screamed again.

"закрытый, сука!" (Shut up, bitch!) shouted a voice in reply.

The man listened carefully while trying to summon his last memory. Although his first thought was to call out, to scream for help, he began to understand the situation even through his confusion and decided to remain quiet. He recalled his meeting with the others, his comrades working against the atrocities of the newly formed government. Then he remembered his friend being hit in the back of the head and falling to the ground.

"Vikenti?" he whispered, struggling to look behind him. Where was his friend?

The woman next door screamed again. It sounded to him like she was being raped. The man tried to set her torture aside to focus on his own problems.

A small hatch within the door in front of him opened and two eyes could be seen peering through the gap. The hatch slammed shut and he could hear several voices rumbling on the other side. He heard them laughing even as the woman next door screamed again. The man braced himself for his captor's entry and the inevitable mauling to come.

Hours went by and as much as he could tell without a window to know for certain, an entire night as well. The lights in his prison room were eventually shut off.

He was left there in the dark for two more days, without food or water, to piss where he sat, diverted from his misery only by the occasional rape and beatings of the woman next door.

After three days, the door opened and the dim light from the hallway hit him like a knife through his skull. The lights in the room were flipped on and then there was the sound of rumbling and bumping furniture being moved about before the door was closed again.

It took the man a full ten minutes to keep his eyes open in the light without pain. And when he could see again, he found a young man sitting across from him behind a desk. A metal pitcher and a cup sat on the edge closest to him. He recognized the man as the attacker who had struck his friend. He tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry, his jaw too sore. His jailer saw him struggling.

"Хотят пить Вы, comrad?" ("Are you thirsty, comrade?") The young man stood to pour some water from the pitcher and then came forward.

("Drink!")

He tipped the cup into the man's mouth and watched him gulping eagerly. Then the young Bezuhov stepped around the back of the chair and cut the knots binding the man's hands. The prisoner yelled out in pain as his arms moved forward.

("Sorry about that, comrade,") Bezuhov said blandly, returning to his desk and to his paperwork.

The man slowly worked his arms forward over the next few minutes, but when he finally tried to stand, he collapsed. Bezuhov immediately stood and walked over to help him to his feet again.

("Why do you help me? Are you being kind in the hope I will give you information I do not have? When they arrested me last year, I told them I didn't know anything.")

After insuring the man could finally stand on his own, Bezuhov returned to his desk. ("You misunderstand why I'm here, comrade Motova. I do not have any questions for you.")

("Then why am I here?")

("I do not know. I have been assigned to you in case there is something you wish to tell us. My superiors seem to think you are very important to the understanding of things moving against us in the city. They want to know how we might work together to help our future country.")

("But I don't know anything.")

There was another loud whine coming from the room next to them and Bezuhov turned to smile at the wall.

("Sorry about the noise. The resident whore is hungry again.")

("What has she done?")

Bezuhov shrugged. ("Your feelings for the woman are touching. Would you like a go at her?")

The man felt sick. ("Monstrous.")

His jailor shrugged again. ("Suit yourself, but she really is quite good. You don't know what you're missing.")

The man turned away in frustration. ("How long must I stay here?")

("I don't know, comrade Motova. Perhaps when you finally have something to tell us?")

The man thought. ("Can I… have something to eat?")

Bezuhov opened a desk draw and pulled out an apple. He tossed it to the man who devoured it entirely in seconds.

After licking the juice from his hands, the man finally looked up. ("Thank you, comrade.")

There was no response and for the next four hours nothing more was said. The man walked around his cell while Bezuhov sat behind his desk doing his paperwork. Finally, in what the man could only guess was the end of the work day, Bezuhov stood to leave.

("I have to go to the bathroom,") said Motova, hopefully.

Almost at the door, Bezuhov stopped, turned, and approached the man lazily. Without warning, he suddenly hit Motova in the center of his face with his fist. The man crumbled to the floor in shock. Holding his face and looking up, he could see the truer, inner soul of his jailor standing over him; the devil's son.

Bezuhov looked angry and eager to deliver more pain. ("I suppose you expect us to wipe your ass for you too, yes?") he screamed. He kicked the man in the side of the ribs, which hurt and surprised him more than the punch that crushed his nose. Bezuhov opened the dungeon door and reached into the hallway to grab a metal bucket. He then threw it down hard at Motova on the floor.

("Shit your brains in that, comrade!")

The door was slammed with a bang and the lights were turned off again There was only blackness once more. The man could hear another door opening in the hallway outside and soon the woman next door was screaming again.

Bezuhov awoke from his dream to find three of his doctors leaning over him.

("Get away from me,") he growled, as he worked one of the buttons to raise his head. The bald, muscled man came forward.

("Well?") Bezuhov barked.

("The FBI is talking to the local police within the station right now.")

Bezuhov smirked. ("This Detective Coleman is most admirable in his capabilities. The files he had pulled from the Homeland Security database must have been more informative than we initially thought. Have them deleted immediately.")

The muscled man nodded.

("Do we know if Mrs. Carmichael has decided to enter the university?")

("Not yet, sir. We should know by morning.")

Bezuhov looked contemptuously at his man.

("We have targeted the Dietz woman in the event Carmichael refuses to comply.")

Bezuhov thought again of the screaming woman next to Motova's cell. ("Good, I don't want us wasting more than a day if the woman decides badly.")

The moon was bright outside, shining through Ethan's bedroom window like an explosion frozen in time. He was still awake and thinking about Sally. He closed his eyes and remembered their fall to the floor together. He cringed at recalling of her embarrassment after the kiss and then again after telling her he was in love with her. Maybe he had gone too far again in the kitchen that night by openly sharing his feelings to her once more. It would seem he just couldn't stop himself from repeating his message of caring and love for her, however covertly, despite his promise to abstain. He thought about the choice Sally had to make before the morning. Would she go to the hospital and give up whatever life she might have left to her if Doctor Howard failed to find a cure? Would she decide to accept her fate and avoid going to the hospital? And what would she do with the remaining time given to her, living her life as a younger woman? He wondered. Would she spend any of the time left… with him?

Ethan rolled over to stare at the wall that divided their two rooms. Was Sally still awake? Was she still praying to God for the wisdom she sought? Ethan frowned. What _would_ she ask of God at a time like this?

There was a very light tap on his bedroom door and Ethan immediately bolted upright.

"Yes?"

The door slowly clicked and opened barely a crack. "Ethan?" came a whispered voice. "Are you awake?"

"Yes, Sally, come in. I'm wide awake."

The door opened a bit more, enough for Sally to poke her face through the crack.

"I'm sorry to wake you, dear, but I was hoping…"

Ethan grabbed his robe from the bottom of his bed and threw it over his shoulders. He leapt up and almost ran to the door, ignoring the stiff pain in his leg. Sally was standing there in the hallway in her robe, looking up at him. Once more the man was stunned by her blue eyes, even through the darkness surrounding them.

"I'm awake, Sally. In fact I can't sleep. Please — come in." He opened the door fully and motioned her to step inside. She hesitated to think and then looked down the hallway toward the room where Kari and Robert were sleeping.

"For just a moment, then," she whispered. "I'm sorry for keeping you up, but I really need to talk to you."

"Please, Sally. There was no possibility of my sleeping tonight." He closed the door behind them.

She turned and smiled at his ability to stand on his own. "You move pretty fast for one still in healing," she whispered.

Ethan smiled back. "All thanks to your excellent care. Please… sit," he said, motioning her toward the bed as he pulled a chair in from the wall. He could see she was embarrassed at seeing his open chest through the gap in his robe. He quickly turned to cover himself before sitting in front of her. The moon shining through the window was painting her face ever so perfectly in the softest blue.

"So," he started, "have you decided what you're going to do in the morning?"

She looked up at him. "Ethan…" She hesitated.

"Yes?"

"I wanted to talk to you about what you said to me in the kitchen tonight." She looked at him skeptically. "Tell me what you meant when you said… you wanted me to live on… and be with you."

Ethan was suddenly frightened.

"I guess I should apologize for saying what I did, given my promise not to embarrass you with my feelings." He decided to risk her discomfort more. "But Sally… I'm totally and completely in love with you."

She tiled her head to the side disbelievingly, but he suddenly found himself emboldened.

"I know you don't believe me, or you won't allow yourself believe me, but I hope you know me well enough by now to realize I'm not a man who willingly throws his feelings about without thought. I've lived my entire life believing I would never find somebody to love… and that was all right. I had accepted this reality. I had my work, my books and then my store. I was content and happy with my life."

He leaned forward to take her hand. "But then I met you and, even before we knew about your condition, all of that changed for me."

Sally finally spoke. "But Ethan, I'm just so… you know… old."

Ethan smiled gratefully. "Yes, the last I heard… you are ninety-three. But… that doesn't tell me how _you_ feel about me."

She frowned.

"Sally… when I kissed you, I think you felt something for me as well." He could see her embarrassment returning.

"I… you…" her head fell. "I'm so ashamed of myself."

Ethan came forward again. "But why, Sally? Why?"

She stared at him in a way he had never seen. She seemed to be struggling with something in her soul as she searched for the words to respond.

"You… are such a beautiful man, Ethan. Any woman, despite her age, couldn't possibly stop themselves from being attracted to you once they came to really know you." She looked down again. "I suppose I'm no different. But I too had accepted my life before I met you and I was looking forward to seeing God. I didn't ask for any of this to happen to me."

"I know that, Sally. You've told us many times you've lived a life fulfilled. You…" he stopped to frown, "what's the matter?"

She was looking at him again in a way that truly startled him. Her face was suddenly filled with loathing.

"I lied."

Sally was shaking her head, and it was then that Ethan began to realize the loathing she was displaying was something focused inward.

"Sally, what do you mean?"

She shook her head again and covered her face with her hands, her shame deepening. Ethan stood and then sat next to her on the bed. He reached out and gently took her into his arms. He could feel her stiffen and then softened against him.

"Sally?"

"When I told you Sam… was a good man."

He released her and then bent down to look into her eyes. "Sam? You… you mean your husband, Sam?"

She nodded. "It wasn't that he was a bad man… he was a very good provider, but…" she hesitated again. "He wasn't a very good father to our daughter or a husband to me. He was always working and we never did anything together as a family." She looked at him again, her lips quivering. "I… I never loved him."

Ethan was surprised. "But the two of you were married… for more than thirty years."

"Yes, I know. I've never admitted this to anybody before, not even to myself until tonight."

He stared into her eyes. "I don't understand, Sally. At a time like this, with everything you have to decide, with Sam being gone so long now, why would you suffer with this now?"

She slowly reached out to take his hand. "I don't think I've ever been in love with a man… not ever."

Ethan frowned at her. "Sally, love comes in many forms. Certainly, your love of poetry has showed you…"

"No, Ethan, never."

"Not even after all your years together, you never learned to… you know… in all that time?"

She grimaced and then shook her head. The look on her face tore at Ethan's heart. This beautiful woman, encompassing the soul of an angel, had never been in love? The thought of it saddened him more deeply than he could ever remember. His lowered his gaze and shook his head.

Sally drew in a deep breath. "But… I think… I do love you… Ethan Dodge."

Ethan looked at her in surprise and the crushing pressure in his chest was suddenly away as his heart was lifted high. She was looking down at his hand in hers and then began to stroke it admiringly. Ethan saw his own hand shaking as he raised it to cup her chin.

"Sally… I never want to forget this moment for the rest of my days… please… tell me again."

Sally looked into his eyes, tears running down the soft glow on her face.

"I love you, Ethan. As much as I've ever known how to love anybody, you have taken my heart a hundred times beyond. You told me once… that you…"

"I love you, Sally," he interrupted her. "I loved you when you were old: I loved you when you were angry and when you were afraid. I love you… and I know now that I'll love you for the rest of my life."

Sally covered her face and started to cry and Ethan reached out to hold her again.

"You've made me the happiest man in the world right now, Sally. You're problems are my problems now. We'll work through this together, whatever you decide you have to do."

"Oh, Ethan. This isn't fair to you…"

"What do you mean?"

"It isn't fair for you to worry about me. If I go to the university, I'll probably die there."

"No you won't."

She frowned. "How do you know?"

"Because I won't let that happen. If they find out they can't stop this, and you decide you want to leave, I'll take you home. You won't end your life in that place, Sally. I promise you."

She pursed her lips and smiled at him, lovingly stroking his face with her shaking hand.

He kissed her on the palm and said, "Remember the words of Middlemas?" She frowned at him. "Middlemas said, 'Love, like a river, will cut a new path whenever it meets an obstacle.' They're just obstacles to us, Sally, but no matter what happens it will not change the way I feel about you."

She smiled and then leaned into him to whisper, "Remember the words of David Levesque."

Ethan thought and then smiled. "'You know you are in love when you see the world in her eyes, and her eyes everywhere in the world.' Levesque was exactly right, Sally." He looked down at her lips. They were so smooth and beautiful. He looked up to find Sally's eyes were already closed as she came forward. They kissed, softly at first, and then more intensely in the moon's glow. He laid her back on his bed and slid his lips down the side of her neck.

"Ethan…" she moaned.

He stopped to look down at her. She looked afraid.

"Are… you sure?" she asked him.

He smiled again and pushed her auburn hair to the side.

"I love you, Sally Carmichael. Of that I am very sure. I pray you grow old again… with me." He kissed her again and she moved to wrap her arms around him.

The soft blue glow,

The lovers' words that then did flow,

Their lips closer and closer

Until, locked in the throes

Of a passionate embrace,

He decided to express his feelings,

To keep her safe.

He whispered softly,

His words like music to her ears,

"I love you,"

And her response the same,

Heard like the gentle breeze,

"And I, love you, forever,"

That was the night they promised

To be together through everything,

Each to care for the other when old and gray.

A lovers' pack

The mostly likely to last.

-Krista J. Mikula-

17


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17d06

Chapter 17 (Draft 06)

Sally was up early the next morning and began fixing breakfast for her sleeping housemates. She was thinking about Ethan and the hours they had shared together before Sally thought it best to leave his bed before Kari and Robert saw her leaving his bedroom. She remembered how frightened and anxious she was as Ethan tenderly removed her clothes and then laid his body into hers. She smiled warmly. She couldn't help herself. He was beautiful both as a person and as a man.

It was surprising how easily he slid into her. It had been more than forty years since she shared this kind of intimacy with a man, with only one other man, and yet she was startled to realize that after thirty years of marriage she couldn't even remember how Sam looked to her during sex. And yet she remembered the finest details of Ethan's face and body as he moaned and smiled his pleasure at being with her. And while they were together, Sally felt something she had never felt before: She now understood the difference between a wife's carnal duty and making love.

"Good morning, Sal," came a sleepy voice behind her. Sally turned to find Kari, still in one of Sally's robes, leaning against the kitchen door with her eyes closed.

"My goodness, child, it's not even seven o'clock in the morning. Why are you up already?

Kari smiled. She loved the way Sally mothered her.

"I could ask you the same thing. How come you're up?" She straightened and then came forward to look in the pan. "Oh and you're cooking bacon too!" She tried to reach for a slice, but Sally was ready with a wooden spoon.

_Smack!_

"Young lady, it's not even cooked yet. Behave yourself."

Kari giggled.

"Have some coffee if you can't wait," Sally scolded her.

As Kari looked through the cupboards for a cup, she said, "So… have you decided what you're going to tell Uncle Glad today?"

Sally slowed her poking in the pan, but didn't look up. "Yes, I have."

Kari didn't like the sound of Sally's voice. She thought she knew what her friend was going to say. "Sally, please… I'm begging you. At least let my uncle and the university take a couple of days to do the tests. If afterward you decide you don't want to go any further, we can talk about it when we have all the facts in front of us. You shouldn't deny yourself the chance for a normal…."

"I've decided to do all the tests your uncle believes are necessary," Sally interrupted her.

Kari was surprised. "I… oh! Ah… that's great, Sal. That's wonderful! Oh — I'm so happy you've decided to do this. What changed your mind?"

Sally used a fork to flip the bacon and then she stopped. She removed the pan from the heat and then moved another in its place. She opened a carton of eggs and then looked up at Kari to smile.

"Ethan," she said.

Kari's eyes flashed and the smile curling her lips didn't hide her hidden delight. "Oh? Did you guys… ah… speak again this morning?"

"Yes, we did."

Kari poured herself a cup of coffee and then turned to stare at her friend. Although Sally was feeling somewhat guilty already, she knew that look well enough.

"What…?"

Kari sipped at her coffee, still staring at her. "What did he say to convince you? Did he repeat what she said last night here in the kitchen?"

"What he said in the kitchen?" Sally frorwned. "I told you before… an old woman's memory can be a curse."

"Oh, that's crap, and you know it!"

Sally looked scornful. "What language is this, young lady? I might not look my age, but I still carry my mother's values. You mind your tongue," she said, raising the wooden spoon at her.

Kari set her cup down. "I'm sorry, but the man all but came right out and told you he loves you. And he did so right in front of me. You couldn't have mistaken what he said for anything else."

"I know he loves me."

Kari was surprised again. "You do? Well… finally… I was beginning to think you were as stubborn as a one legged dog."

"A what?"

"A one legged dog. You know the joke."

"What joke?"

Kari smiled. "What do you call a one-legged dog?"

Sally frowned.

"It doesn't matter, he won't come anyway."

"That's terrible." She went back to flipping the bacon and smiled anyway. "So you're saying I'm both old and stubborn, then?"

"More stubborn than old. Did he tell you he loved you again this morning?"

"Yes, many times." Sally grinned again, but this time Kari saw it, the look of happy contentment.

"Ohhhh… really… now that sounds interesting. So… what happened?"

Sally leered back at her. It was there on her face again, that look.

"Nothing! Nothing happened," she said in an irritated tone. "I tell you, young lady, the way your mind works and concentrates itself upon sex, it's a marvel you're such a good and practiced nurse. Where you find the time to apply your trade with your mind living in the gutter half the time is a wonder to me."

Kari raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say anything about sex."

Sally's face flushed. "Oh… I thought… I thought you meant… oh never mind." She took an egg from its carton and cracked it angrily into the pan. Half the shell dropped in with the yolk.

"Damn! Now look at what you've made me do!"

"Something did happen this morning with Ethan, didn't it?" Kari said accusingly.

Sally looked at her again. "I…" she suddenly looked nervous, her face reddening, "I… I don't know what you mean. A lady doesn't speak of such things, even with those…"

Kari grabbed her by the hand, looked behind her to insure they were still alone, and then led them both to the table. She pulled out a chair.

"Sit!" she demanded, pushing Sally down before pulling up a second chair to face her squarely. "Tell me everything!"

Sally was dumbstruck at her friend's directness. She tried to stand. "I will not. Such conversation is completely improper!"

Kari pushed her down again. "I said — sit!"

She pointed her finger at Sally. "Now… there's one thing you've got to get straight, Sal. In this day and age everybody talks about sex. It's no longer the great taboo it was in your day. So… fess up… what happened?"

Sally was shocked. "I will not. A lady should never…"

"Oh… oh…I see," Kari moaned, falling back against her chair, "he must have been a really terrible lover. That's a shame."

Sally seemed ready to explode. "Ethan Dodge is not a terrible… anything!" she whispered as loud as she dared. "He's gentle and kind and brilliant. He's a wonderful and caring man. Any woman would be…" She suddenly halted. Kari was beaming with delight.

"Sally, this is wonderful! Oh, I'm so happy for the two of you!"

Sally looked mortified. "I… I didn't say… oh dear… what have I done." She covered her reddening face.

"What's the matter? You're not… embarrassed, are you?" Kari posed with a quirky grin, her tone inflecting upward.

"Yes, of course I'm embarrassed. In my day, women didn't speak of such things."

"Why not?"

"Because it's improper, that's why not."

"It's not 'improper' as long as you're talking with somebody you trust. Don't you trust me?"

"No! I don't!"

Kari looked hurt. "Why not?"

"Because — I know you, young lady, and it wouldn't be a day before you're off scandalizing me to all your little friends. 'Oh, look at the old woman having…" Sally stopped to look cautiously around them again, "relations with a younger man!'" she finished in a whisper.

"I wouldn't do that! And besides… even if I did… all my friends would be thrilled to know you still had the ol' fire burning. It's inspirational!"

"FIRE BURNING!" Sally shot back. "Is that what you think of me, as some kind of saucy, hussy-of-a-sexpot, looking to bed down with anyone who'll have her? Is that what you think?"

"Oh, of course not — don't be silly."

Sally tried to stand again. "Then why do you insist we talk about it?"

Kari pulled her back down again. "Because, Sal, I want to know that Ethan is treating you right. I love you more than anybody in the whole world, and while Ethan seems a nice enough guy, I'm just not going to assume you're happy being with him in that way."

Sally lowered her head. She looked confused.

"Let me ask you this," Kari continued. "Did you enjoy being with him?"

Sally didn't reply.

"Did he make you… you know… feel good?"

Finally, Sally lifted to look at her friend and mumbled, "He was wonderful."

Kari smiled broadly. "Yeah? So you did enjoy it?"

Sally covered her mouth and glanced around the kitchen again. She had to be sure nobody could hear them.

"What's the matter?"

Sally suddenly looked very nervous. "Yes, he _was_ wonderful, but…"

Kari's face dropped. "But? But what? Did he do something to make you feel uncomfortable? Something weird? Tell me."

"No, no… he was very gentle, very kind, but…"

"Then… what?"

"I just don't know if what he was doing was… ah… you know… _normal_."

"Uh-oh… what do you mean normal? He didn't try to bend you into a pretzel, did he?"

"What? Of course not!" Sally's angry expression immediately softened. "I mean… I don't know if… if it's normal for a man… I mean… you know… for other men… to be so…" she looked away again, embarrassed.

Kari leaned in to keep their eyes locked together. "Say it, Sally. I can't help you if you don't say it. Is it normal for a man to be so… what?"

Sally drew in a deep breath and then leaned in to whisper, "Is it normal for a man to be so… attentive of me, of my… you know… my feelings?"

"Well, yeah, of course it is. If he's a good man and he cares about the woman he's with, absolutely yes. Why does that surprise you?"

Sally fell back to think. "I've… only ever been with Sam, and our occurrences were nothing like what I experienced with…" She hesitated once more.

"Really? So what did Sam do, just throw you down when he wanted you and jump your bones at will?"

Sally frowned. "Don't be vulgar."

"Oh, my God."

"And don't bring the Lord's name into…" she looked around fretfully again, "into sex talk!" Sally chided her in a whisper.

"Well if that's all this is — just a lot of sex talk — then I should think God would be very disappointed, because there's a big difference between having sex and making love."

Sally's face softened. She had only recently come to the same conclusion. She leaned close to Kari again.

"But Ethan was nothing like Sam. He was very gentle and so… you know… focused on me, on my nervousness, the way I looked and the way I was feeling. I… never would have believed…"

Kari finally understood. "Did he, ah… you know…?"

Sally frowned. "What? Did he what?"

"You know," Kari smiled. "Did he, ah… ring your bell, curl your toes, send your head spinning," she leaned in close. "Did he get you off?"

Sally didn't understand her completely, but she could tell by the evil grin on her friend's face that she was probably being lewd again.

"Are you making fun of me?"

"No — no — no." Kari came closer still. "I mean… did Ethan... you know… love you in a way that… ah… helped you to achieve an orgasm?"

Sally turned red again, but her mind was sent reeling backward to that moment when she found herself clutching Ethan tight while in the throes of her own ecstasy. A slight smile told the truth.

"All right, Sal!" Kari yelped loudly.

Sally jumped at Kari's outburst, frightened at the thought somebody might hear them. She stood. "Will you please keep your voice down, child!" she scolded her.

Sally returned to the stove and put the bacon back on the fire. "You will not speak a word of this to anyone, Kari. Not if you cherish our friendship. A lady does not impart another's privacies without consent."

Kari smirked and then stood. "Oh come on, I won't tell a soul." She took the spoon out of Sally's hand and then hugged her friend tight.

"I'm so happy for you, Sal. Ethan sounds like a wonderful guy.

Sally closed her eyes and hugged Kari back. "Bless you, child, for listening to an old woman's fears and silliness. I know you'll mind my confidence."

Kari smiled as they came apart. "Of course. Besides…who would believe me?" She leaned close again to whisper, "Who knew Sally Carmichael would turn out to be such a sexpot."

Sally yanked the spoon from Kari's hand and then slapped her on the rear with it. "You're terrible, but mind what I've said, child."

"Wow, that smells really good," came voice in the doorway. It was Ethan. "You can smell the bacon cooking on the other side of the house."

Kari reached down to pick up her coffee. She looked at Sally as she took another sip. "Good morning, Ethan," she said in a sing-song voice. "How'd you ah… sleep?" Sally was glaring at her while Kari tired to good innocent.

"That coffee smells great too." he replied, pulling a cup down from the cupboard. "It took me a while, but then I finally went down pretty hard."

Kari almost spit her coffee.

Sally looked mortified and then angry. "Kari - why don't you take that coffee up to Robert and tell him breakfast is almost ready."

Kari turned toward the doorway. "Okay, I can't wait to tell him the good news."

"Kari?" Sally yelped.

Her friend turned to smile back at her. "About us going to the university, I mean."

Kari left the kitchen and headed for the stairs. As she rounded the newel post, she stopped to lean back and observed Sally and Ethan sharing a lover's embrace. He was holding her in his arms and gently kissing the side of her neck. Sally saw her friend spying on them over his shoulder and then waved a threatening spoon at her again. Kari laughed quietly to herself, pumped her fist in triumph, and then pounded up the steps.

Two hours later Robert, Kari, Sally and Ethan were pulling in front of Sally's apartment.

"Thank you for driving us, Robert," Sally said, opening her door. "I only need more than a couple of minutes to pack a few things for the university." Ethan got out of the backseat and escorted her across the street as Robert rolled down his window.

"Take your time. I have to make a few of calls anyway."

The couple waved back before disappearing inside the apartment.

"So…" Robert said, looking over at Kari, "the two of them are _really_ together now."

Kari smiled and then shook her head. "Can you believe it? Sally at ninety three, getting all frisky again. It boggles the mind, doesn't it?"

"You know, at some point, you're going to have to stop thinking of your friend as an old woman. She might be in her nineties on paper, but she's looking pretty damn good compared to a lot of other woman in their twenties and thirties."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kari shot back. "You getting the hots for Sally too?"

He smiled and then leaned over. "Not when I've got the hottest little hottie right here beside me." He kissed her, but her lips remained pursed as her stare deepened.

"Good answer, detective. You just keep those roving eyes front and center, if you know what's good for you."

He laughed. "How did you uncle respond when you told him Sally was coming in this morning?"

Kari shrugged. "He was happy about it, but it was kind of weird too."

"What do you mean?"

Kari looked up at the door where Sally and Ethan had disappeared. She was thinking. "I just don't understand what Uncle Glad is doing. There's still no word about Benny's disappearance, and yet he's going off to work like nothing in the world was wrong. It's a little strange, don't you think?"

Robert didn't tell Kari about the FBI's suspicions that her uncle's benefactor might have kidnapped her cousin. Everybody thought it best to divulge nothing outside the meeting the day before.

"Yeah, maybe. What does your Aunt say about his going off to work while Benny is still missing?"

"According to Julie, Aunt Liz is seriously pissed-off about it. And who could blame her? The entire family is upset with his going off to work at a time like this. If it wasn't for the fact that he's helping Sally, I'd have a lot to say about it too."

Robert thought to create an excuse for her uncle's odd behavior. "Everybody handles stress a little differently," he suggested. "People will usually do what's most comforting to them, something that gives them a better sense of control within the given situation. Others will kind of crawl into a ball and stop breathing; I've seen it in just about every way possible. It's obvious your uncle is looking to keep his mind occupied while he waits for news about Benny. I can't say I'd handle the situation any differently if it were me."

"Yeah… maybe." Kari was rubbing her eyes. "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Did you hear anything from that detective-friend of yours… what was his name again?"

"Bob Shoales?"

"Yeah, do they know anything about AJ yet?"

"Not yet. They're still gathering what they can on that one. He did tell me they didn't get anything from the stairwell camera though."

"Really? They didn't see anybody heading downstairs that might have seen AJ in the basement?"

"Not exactly. They found the camera had been damaged around the time they were looking for people traveling the steps."

"They found another damaged camera? Didn't the same thing happen when they went looking for the person who attacked Ethan?"

"Yeah, but this was a little different. The first camera had a damaged cable. The camera in the stairwell was smashed, like some kids might have taken it out with a baseball bat."

Kari wasn't a detective, but even she found this revelation hard to believe. "Well, that was rather convenient to whoever…" her words stumbled, "hurt… AJ."

Robert squeezed her hand and then looked up at Sally's building again. "I agree."

Sally and Ethan were standing at the door of her apartment, working the key in the lock when a voice rang out.

"What in blazes do you think you're doing there?"

They turned to see an old man coming toward them. He looked angry, brandishing a metal cane like a weapon. Ethan could hear Sally groan under her breath as she worked the lock more hurriedly.

"I said stop!" the man yelled out again.

Feeling very frustrated, Sally finally turned to face the man. "Hello Mr. Hirch."

The man stopped in front of them. He looked a little surprised that the woman in front of him knew his name. "May I help you people?"

"No, I'm just coming home to see to a few things, that's all."

Sally's neighbor placed his cane at the door in front of her as if to stop her entry. "That there's Mrs. Sally Carmichael's place. She's a very good friend of mine and she's asked me to keep a watch over things while she's away at the hospital."

Sally suddenly looked angry. "I never asked you to do any such thing," she fired back.

The man frowned. "No _you_ didn't. I said Mrs. Carmichael asked me."

Sally turned to face him squarely. "I'll have you know I am Sally Carmichael!"

The man seemed to lose his balance somewhat by her statement. "What the hell you talkin' about? My eyes ain't so bad that I can't recognize Mrs. Sally when I see her – and you ain't her, girlie."

Ethan stepped in quickly. "What my friend means, Mr. Hirch, is that she _is_ Sally Carmichael's granddaughter, given the same name, of course."

The old man frowned again, looking very suspicious. "What the hell kinda' nonsense is this?" He fumbled with the spectacles perched upon the top of his head and lowered them to the bridge of his nose. The two watched as his eyebrows rise up in surprise.

"Well I'll be. Yes ma'am, I have to say you look at lot like our Sally. Granddaughter, you say? Mrs. Carmichael never mentioned she still had family. Where you from, miss?"

Sally looked up at Ethan who gave her a quick wink and then seemed to relax her ambitions to tell the old man off. "Nebraska," she replied, annoyed but resolved not to say more.

The man stared at her closely. "You have your grandmother's eyes," he paused and then smiled, "and I'll have you know I take every pleasure in telling you that." He looked at Ethan again.

"You and I have already met, haven't we, son?"

Ethan smiled. "Yes, sir, we have. You and I met when I stopped by to pick up Sally's prescriptions a couple of months back, remember?"

"Ah, yes. Dodge wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir. Ethan Dodge. It's nice to see you again." As he reached out to shake the old man's hand, Ethan could see Sally rolling her eyes. The neighbor finally seemed satisfied.

"So how's Mrs. Sally doing? She still down at the hospital? They better hope to God I don't find out they ain't treatin' her right."

"They've released her, but she still has a way to go in her recovery. She'll be staying with her family for a while," Ethan explained.

"Oh, very good. Do you have a phone number where I can reach her?"

Ethan was trying to think fast before Sally exploded again.

"I'd… rather not give it out without the family's permission. I'm sure you understand. But we'll tell Sally you were asking about her. She has your number, right?"

"Of course she does, but I'd better give it to you again just in case that blasted hospital forgot to give it to her." He repeated his number and Ethan wrote it down.

"Very good. Well thank you again, Mr. Hirch, and we'll be sure to tell Sally we saw you."

"You do that, boy. That there's a mighty fine woman. You take good care of her, miss," the man said, looking at Sally again.

Sally finally pushed the door open and then pulled Ethan roughly inside as Mr. Hirch turned to walk away. She then closed the door with a frustrated heave and quickly flipped the deadbolt.

"Ruddy old coot," she blistered, fumbling to slide the chain across the latch.

Ethan laughed. "Oh he seems harmless enough to me. In fact, I thought it was nice of him to look after your place like that."

Sally scowled back at him. "That man has all but hit be over the head and dragged me back to his cave. He's nothing but a dirty-old coot," she said, adding a little kick to the bottom of the door.

Ethan came over to wrap his arms around her. "And who could blame him, huh?"

Sally immediately softened in his arms and then reached up to kiss him gently on the lips. He moaned at her touch and then ran his lips down to the nape of her neck. Her eyes fluttered as he pulled her tighter against him.

"Ethan…."

"Hmmmmm?"

"Ethan, dear," she sighed.

"Ummmm," he began kissing her the other side of her neck.

"Kari and Robert are waiting for us… and…" she moaned again. "I still have to pack."

He released her with a smile. "Okay… so how can I help?" He turned to look around the room, but Sally reached out to pull him back to her.

"Kiss me again…"

He placed his hands on both sides of her face and then lowered his gaze to her wanting lips. He kissed her deeper than she had ever been kissed before; it made her shudder against him.

"Sally?"

"Hmmmmm?"

"How can I help you?"

She smiled before opening her eyes. She took a deep breath and then looked to her right. "I have a suitcase in the top part of my bedroom closet. If you get it down for me, I'll take it from there."

Ethan looked at the door and then to her again. "Bedroom, huh?"

Sally rolled her eyes before opening the bedroom door. Turning to look back she said, "Perhaps I'll just handle it myself." She smiled at the exaggerated look of disappointment on Ethan's face as she opened the closet.

_The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving._

"No they're not."

_The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving._

"No — they're not. No — they're not. No — they're not!"

Young Benny Howard was huddled in the corner of a dark room alone and rocking back and forth,

"They're not — they're not — they're not!"

He peeked out from behind his fingers to look at the shadows stretched across the yellow light on the floor in front of him.

_The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving._

"Stop it. They are not!" Benny covered his ears again and started to thump the back of his head against the brick behind him. "They're not — they're not — they're not!"

The yellow light on the floor disappeared as a man, squat like a bolder and dressed in a black suit, looked into the room from a small hole in the metal door. He saw the boy was suffering again. The man turned to walk a few steps away before opening his phone again.

"Это - Igorek. Мальчик глуп снова. Что я должен сделать? ("This is Igorek. The boy is stupid again. What should I do?) "Да, да."

He closed the phone and heaved. "Трахнитесь!"

He snatched up a bottle of pills on the table and looked at its label.

"O-lan-za-peen… Что когда-либо трахание!"

He returned to the door and slid the bolt. The young man inside looked up at him with wide and frightened eyes.

"You is time to take." Igorek said in a deep voice, rattling the bottle of pills in front of him. The long scar running down the right side of his face was illuminated grotesquely in the light behind him. It looked like a snake traveling into his hairline

The boy jumped to his feet and ran forward, holding his hands out greedily. Igorek's fingers were almost too fat to pinch the pill over to his prisoner. Benny swallowed the pill quickly and then held out his hands again.

"Только один," said the man, holding up a single finger.

"No, no, no, I need to take three of them," the boy said, holding up the correct count.

"Нет, нет, нет - только один!" The man turned to leave and Benny started to panic.

"No, I need more—please!" He made a dash for the open door, but the large man grabbed him by the collar and threw him backward into the room again.

"Куда трахание Вас идет, голова дерьма?"

The guard stepped into the hallway and then slammed the door behind him.

Benny ran forward and started banging on the door. "Please, you don't understand. I need my medication. You're not giving me enough. Please!"

"Закройте испортить!"

Benny turned to look back in the room. There was a tray of uneaten food lying on a naked mattress. He frowned as the voice started again in his head. He covered his ears as he slowly slid into the corner again.

_The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving. The shadows are moving._

"Shut up!"

162


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18d04

Chapter 18 (Draft 04)

Two weeks later.

"Please, when can I speak to my son? I've done everything you've asked of me, even to the point of putting my patient at risk."

"Young Benny is getting along well, doctor. You don't have to be concerned about him so long as you keep working."

"But…"

"I take it you've received and put into study the chemicals delivered to you yesterday?"

Howard looked repentant as he dropped his head. He was ashamed of himself both as a doctor and as a man. "Yes… I have. The bottle marked 'ADAM 1K10 was injected into Mrs. Carmichael's choroid plexus this morning."

"And… how is our patient recovering?"

"Mr. Bezuhov, can you at least tell me what I'm injecting this woman with?"

There was a pause. "If I have to tell you again the consequences of saying my name out loud, doctor…"

"I'm sorry! Please… forgive me. I'm just… so worried about my son… and… the stress of the situation here…"

"I will not warn you again, Doctor Howard. The consequences to those you care about will be deliberately dire."

Howard was pulling unconsciously at his hair.

"Now then, the serum in question is just a cocktail of various peptidase proteins."

"I don't know how you expect me to tell you what's happening to my patient without understanding first what I'm doing to her with these injections."

"You role tonight is rather simple, doctor. Tell me how Mrs. Carmichael is recovering."

Howard was rubbing his eyes. The strain had surpassed the breaking point within him days ago. The only thing keeping him focused was the face of his son staring back at him from the frame on his desk.

"Doctor… I'm waiting."

"She seems to be doing fine. I already sent you the lab results you requested."

"Yes, I have read them. Our patient is quite remarkable. Has she complained about any headaches yet, any bouts of confusion?"

Howard frowned. "No… should I be expecting…"

"I'm sending you the address of a trusted neurosurgeon; you should begin a series of MRI scans every morning until the ADAM1K10 treatments are complete. Have the scan results sent to the address."

"Scans? What am I looking for?"

"Any newly formed masses."

"What?" Howard swallowed hard and then looked back at his office door to insure it was closed. He dropped into his chair and leaned forward to whisper, "Are you telling me that I might be influencing cancer growth in this patient?"

"I'm afraid there is that small possibility, thus my instructions for doing the scans. Choroid plexus carcinomas can be somewhat aggressive by nature if not identified and treated early. The neurosurgeon I'm recommending is experienced in the latest and minimally invasive techniques afforded the situation."

Howard's heart was pounding; he was suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

"It must be said, your results showing a stimulated cleavage of klotho without the presence of insulin was very enlightening to me, doctor. You are sure of the numbers you put in table five? The corresponding expression of antioxidant enzymes… they are correct?"

Howard's head was swimming. "I'm afraid… I'm finding it difficult to…" he was starting to hyperventilate.

"Although I should be upset with your inability to remain focused in our conversations, doctor, I believe I might have pushed you too hard over the last few days. You should know that I am not displeased with your results. However, I suggest you gather your strength quickly. There is much yet to be done. I will expect another report tonight. Good day, Doctor Howard."

There was a soft click in Howard's ear and man fell forward onto his desk. He reached out with a shaking hand to clutch the picture of his son tight and then pressed it hard to his face. He started to cry uncontrollably.

"Did you get anything?" Ramirez asked, looking back at the other FBI agent wearing a headset. The agent looked back at his friend and shrugged.

"God damn it!" Ramirez threw his own headset to the floor. "All this fucking equipment and we still can't we get in on these conversations."

Special Agent Koslov bent down to pick up the headset. "That's because our Russian friend has a bigger budget than the FBI for keeping his conversations private." He handed the set back to his friend.

"Well that's all going to change once we get that judge to sign off on the warrant."

Koslov looked at Ramirez and raised his eyebrows knowingly.

"What's the matter?"

"I didn't want to tell you before the call, because I had hoped we might get something in their conversation to soften the blow."

"What the hell are you talking about? What blow?"

Koslov took out a cigarette. "We didn't get the warrant."

"What the hell are you talking about? Sheila told us the judge said she'd sign it this morning. What happened?"

"She didn't sign it, that's all I can tell you."

Ramirez looked skeptical.

Koslov lit his cigarette and took a drag. He shrugged almost uncaringly. "Bezuhov has many friends. I'm sure he probably knew about our warrant request before it cleared the printer. When I heard Doctor Howard received the new cell phone this morning I knew the old man was on to us. I expect Sheila will be calling you shortly with the bad news."

Ramirez shook his head in disgust as the door to the office opened. It was Robert Coleman.

"Well, did you get anything? Did you hear what they were saying?"

Koslov looked at Ramirez. "You want to tell him or should I?"

"Ethan, you told me you would take me home."

Ethan Dodge was just as frustrated as Sally. "Yes, that's what I said and I meant it. If you feel you've had enough I will keep my promise to you."

"Please, Sally," Kari pleaded. "What's a few more days going to matter? Let Glad finish what he's started. He still seems to think…"

"Kari, I was never told how intrusive these so called tests were going to be, and even as I suffered through them I didn't complain or make a fuss. But injecting chemicals into my brain is going too far. I want you to tell your uncle I won't go any farther. As soon I my strength returns, Ethan will take me home."

"But Sal… we shouldn't give up on this…"

"Enough, child! Please, respect my decision, I beg you."

Kari looked like she was about to cry and she looked at Ethan pleadingly as he heaved a relenting sigh.

"We've both said what we wanted to say, Kari. While we might not agree with the decision, if this is what Sally wants to do… then I intend to help her leave."

Another man entered the room.

"Hello, Mrs. Carmichael, how are you feeling today?"

Doctor Sheil Sajid was a young man of about thirty and one of Doctor Howard's most trusted employees. Of all the doctors working to understand Sally's condition, Sajid was the one most capable of remembering her as a person. Immensely brilliant, the young man was always willing to listen to Sally's fears and concerns, which endeared him greatly to both Ethan and Kari. Being of Indian decent, his parents arrived in America more than fifty years ago and Sally was heartedly impressed by the fact this first generation son had accomplished so much in his life. She always said he possessed a true American heart, fit to fight off the hardships delivered to its people even in her time.

Sally settled back in her bed. "Hello Doctor Sajid. I'm feeling a little better, thank you."

"Now, now," Sajid said, wagging an accusing finger at her, "you promised me you would call me Sheil, remember?" He smiled brightly as he came around the bed to look down at her and Sally could see his brilliant mind multi-tasking as he began his morning evaluation even as he continued to speak. "Would you honor me?" he asked.

"You should not give up your well-earned entitlements so quickly, young man. Remember: the rules of etiquette provide a guideline to proper behavior in all of us," Sally replied with a wink.

"Yes, but my mother might say I was getting full of myself." He smiled at her. "Still, I wouldn't think to argue with you."

Sally reached out to grasp his hand. "Have your mother come and see me and I'm sure we can agree on your wonderful qualities."

Even through his dark complexion, they all could see the man was blushing. He leaned back to smile. After gathering Sally's vital signs, something he never seemed to trust to all the electronic gadgets attached to her, Sajid made is customary walk around her bed to check her arms and legs and feet. Finally, with a nod of satisfaction, he opened his chart.

"I have some good news for you," the doctor said matter-of-factly, and everybody looked up unexpected apprehension. He continued to write in the chart, a dramatic pause within the elevated interest surrounding him. They caught him peering up at Sally and then he lowered the chart to smile.

"Good news?" Kari replied, suddenly looking nervous.

"I think so. As you know, we've been watching the interactions between fibroblast growth factor twenty-three and the fibroblast growth factor receptors, as well as the signaling between FGF-nineteen and twenty one. We're starting to see an interesting trend in the metabolic activities of these endocrine fibroblast growth factors."

Even Kari, who had thrown herself into understanding the details of her uncle's work more closely, was lost to understand what Sajid was saying.

"Doctor…" Sally replied with a frown, "I would say your mother's tongue is very pleasant to the ear… but… in English, please?"

Sajid laughed and then came around the bed to look down at Sally again. "I mean… it's slowing down, Mrs. Carmichael. You're not aging as quickly now as you were when we did the same tests while you were still at Mercy Center."

"You mean she's going to stop getting younger?" Ethan replied hopefully. He looked at Sally. "That's wonderful!"

"No, no, I didn't say that," the doctor interrupted. "What I said is we've seen a slowing trend, but she's still getting younger."

"But this is good news, you said."

"Yes it is, because it gives us the hope her condition might eventually stop on its own, but it also gives us another valuable data point in our understanding of the things happening to her."

"Do you have any idea how much younger…I'll become?" Sally hesitated.

"Unfortunately, no. It's definitely slowing, but I cannot tell you for certain that it will completely stop unless we can find a way to control it within our studies."

"So what you're saying is," Kari interrupted, "now it's become a race between this condition stopping on its own verses her body growing so young that it can't sustain itself."

Sajid looked at Sally and nodded. "That is essentially correct."

"What do you think you're doing?" crowed an invading voice from the door. It was Doctor Howard. "Sheil, I specifically told you not to divulge this information to the patient until I was ready."

Sajid seemed taken aback. "Yes, sir, you did, not until we were able to verify the results. Those results just came in and they verify the positive trend we discussed." He reached out to hand him the results and Howard snatched them away angrily. He looked down to study the tabled numbers and then looked up.

"These results mean nothing, which is exactly why I told you to wait."

"But, Doctor Howard, clearly you can see the interactions between FGF- twenty-three and FGF receptors…"

"Enough! I want you to prepare Mrs. Carmichael for another series this evening and then an MRI in the morning."

Sajid seemed surprised. "Another series, sir, but I thought you said we had completed that sequence."

Howard looked down at the test results again. He looked flushed and nearing exhaustion. "Apparently not," he whispered to himself angrily.

Robert was standing at the door behind him. Although he had only been within earshot for a few seconds, he didn't like what he heard in Howard's mutterings. The call from Bezuhov had added something insidious to the situation.

"Is everything all right?" Robert said, entering the room fully. Nobody spoke.

Howard looked at Sajid again. "You heard me. Prepare the patient for the next treatment.

"No."

Howard was already scowling as he looked across the room for the individual seeking to argue against his orders. It was Sally.

"I think you've done quite enough, Doctor Howard."

The look on Howard's face immediately changed from anger to terrified alarm. "But Mrs. Carmichael, these treatments are necessary, essential to our understanding your condition. You must appreciate the fact that in order to slow what's happening to you, we must…"

"I said no."

Once again the room fell into silence. At first Howard seemed resolved to accept his patient's wishes as he slowly turned to Sajid. "Prepare the team."

"Did you not hear me, doctor?" Sally replied, irritated, her youthful appearance suddenly taking on a very powerful presence in the room.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carmichael, but you don't seem to understand the risk to yourself. It's imperative that we continue your treatments. Without them, you will most likely…"

"Die!" Sally shot back. "Yes, I understood that reality before I came to you." Her stare narrowed. "I appreciate what you and Doctor Sajid and the rest of your team have been trying to do for me, but this has gone far enough. I'm leaving the hospital."

The first to react to this declaration was Robert, because he could clearly see the explosion coming. Doctor Howard's hand was shaking as he slowly reached up to remove his glasses. Robert stepped in front of his friend.

"Glad… I want you to look at me." Howard looked up and into the detective's face and Robert could immediately see something in the man's eyes he didn't like, something had only ever seen once before in his entire life.

It was a case he had been working ten years earlier. A father's fourteen year old daughter had been raped and murdered by the man sitting on trial. Robert could tell even as the murderer was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole that the father was not satisfied. It was in his eyes; Satan himself had entered the man's soul and set an infection in place that could only be healed by what happened next. The father leaped over the banister and stabbed the killer through the back with a sharpened stick right there in the courtroom.

Robert never thought he'd ever see the devil so alive again, but he was seeing the demon once more in Doctor Howard's eyes.

"Glad, I know what you're thinking right now. You're thinking about your son."

"She doesn't understand," Howard said, his face twisting itself into something assimilating both contempt and rage.

"But I do, Glad, I do understand. I know that maniac has your son."

The rage in Howard's face was building. "She doesn't understand."

"What does he want with Sally, Glad? Why is she so important to him?"

The doctor wasn't listening. "She's going to ruin everything."

"Talk to me, damn it. Glad — what does he want with Sally?"

Howard moved Robert aside to look at Sally in the bed. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Carmichael, but you cannot be allowed to leave. We still have a number of tests we need to run."

Kari and Ethan looked at each other in shocked surprise.

"Uncle Glad, you're obviously upset," Kari replied, "and I want Sally to stay too… but you can't keep her here against her will."

"Yes, I can."

Sally threw the blankets aside. "Ethan, take me home."

"You're not going anywhere," Howard answered her, his voice rising.

"Now wait a minute," Ethan started to argue.

"I have contacted the Center for Disease Control to warn them of your condition. I told them it wouldn't be safe to let you leave." Howard raised a finger. "One call from me and I can have armed guards standing outside your door."

Robert's mind flew into a scene where he could see the Russian phoning in the order to the CDC. He immediately opened his cell.

"You what?" Kari was surprised. "Glad, you had no right! Sally isn't in any way contagious. What in the world have you done?"

Doctor Sajid stepped forward. "Doctor Howard. I don't understand. Why have you done this? In all of our meetings and briefings together, we have never once even discussed this possibility."

"Shut up," Howard fired back. "You don't understand what's going on. You only know what I've decided to tell you."

Robert finished his call and stepped forward. "Sally, I'm escorting you out of here right now. Can you get up?"

"Yes, I believe so." She quickly swept her feet to the side and tried to stand. She wobbled a bit and reached out.

"Help her, Kari. We're leaving right now."

Howard rushed forward, "NO!" He dropped the chart and grabbed Sally and used his weight to push her roughly back to the bed. "You can't go! I won't allow it! You mustn't!"

"Glad! Stop it!" Kari tried to pull her uncle away, but he turned and pushed her to the floor.

Robert rushed forward and grabbed Howard by the back of his collar. With a twisting shove he slammed Howard's front against the wall.

"God damn, Glad, stop this!" He pulled his wrists behind him and pulled out his handcuffs.

"Let me go! You don't know what you're doing. You don't understand!"

FBI agents Koslov and Ramirez suddenly rushed into the room.

"Hold him!" Robert shouted, pushing Howard into their arms. He turned again to Kari and Sally. "Come on. We have to go right now!"

Ethan came forward. "Robert, what the hell is going on? Why are we in a rush to leave? What's happening?"

"There's no time to explain right now. Just trust me when I say it's vital we get out of here now!"

One thousand miles away, Bezuhov was reviewing his last report from the hospital. He looked up at the muscled man standing at the foot of his bed.

"Это - вторая попытка ФБР, чтобы заставить ордер слушать в на телефонных беседах Доктора Говарда." ("This is the second attempt by the FBI to get a warrant to listen in on Doctor Howard's telephone conversations.") The old man tossed the report to the foot of his bed. ("Make the necessary calls to have those agents removed from the university.") His servant bowed slightly and then left the room.

Bezuhov went back to reading one of several files his people had given to him days before on the individuals closest to Sally Carmichael. He stopped to stare at a color photo of Kari Dietz. As he continued to read through information about Sally Carmichael's closest friend, something caught his eye in her personnel file from the Mercy Center. The old man frowned as he read, 'The patient has been experiencing visual hallucinations manifesting themselves as red-Xs on the foreheads of individuals she believes are in mortal danger at the hospital. The patient has been suffering from these visual manifestations for a period of three months, starting with several dying patients in the hospital and gradually progressing to the point of complete physical and mental exhaustion. The crisis center has evaluated the patient and conducted a number of tests for alcohol and drug abuse, Charles Bonnet syndrome, Lewy body dementia, Parkinson's disease, Temporal lobe epilepsy, and Vertebro-basilar artery syndrome. All tests were negative, with inconclusive results defining…' Bezuhov skipped to the back pages of the report where Mercy's resident psychologist wrote:

'While chronic cases of hallucination and delusion can typify psychiatric ailments such as schizophrenia and other disorders, none seem to be present in Miss Dietz. Our tests have shown the patient's mind completely capable of good reasoning and sound thought processing, deferring the need for any further testing for delusions. Individual counseling has helped the patient immensely in handling the stress and pressures in her nursing role and her red-X manifestations have slowed as the anxieties in her job at Mercy have lessened. Our final recommendations will include a change to group counseling and a move to another nursing role encompassing less stress.'

Bezuhov lifted a copy of a crude pencil drawing clipped to the report. It was obviously something the psychologist had asked Kari to draw for them while in session. The face of a person was looking out from the page with a faded X in the center of the forehead. The old man's eyes widened as he stared at the picture and soon his own head was slowly falling back against the pillowed headboard to remember the portions of his past he thought long forgotten. A minute later, he was dreaming once more of his days as an ambitious youth working for the Soviet State.

"Пробудитесь, товарищ Мотова." ("Wake up, comrade Motova")

Motova awoke with a start at the boot jabbing into his sore ribs and squinted up at the lights above him. He rolled to his side on the hard floor to see the young man sitting at the desk again casually doing his paperwork. Three more days had passed, but nothing had changed for the man. Every morning we was awakened by the toe of the young man's boot, given some food and water, and then left to share the rest of his day alone with his jailer. He didn't say anything to the young man out of fear he might entice more of his fuming retribution. This time his jailer had caught him dreaming of his friend Vikenti, who he now believed was probably dead.

The smell in the room was horrible from the bucket of excrement and piss sitting in the corner, but the pungent smell of shit and mold never seemed to bother the young man. He was joyously dedicated to his work, sometimes whistling as he dipped a broken quill into the inkbottle before writing only God knew what on the yellowed paper.

And then, about halfway through another cold and boring morning, Motova noticed the young man staring at him in a most peculiar way. His jailer seemed fixated on his forehead in a way that unnerved the prisoner so much it made him shudder with fear. Of all the terrible things that had already happened to him, it was that stare that would haunt Motova's dreams in the nights they were apart.

For his part, the jailer was confident he was fulfilling his plan for extracting the information his superiors wanted from the man, and it was soon to come. Bezuhov knew this because he was getting very good at his job; in fact he had never failed. And the more success he delivered, the more he would be rewarded both in treasure and future opportunity. The man Motova meant nothing to him. He was worthless except for his bones that would eventually go to the dogs guarding the prison. Very little evidence was ever left in the keeper's process.

Although worthless in all the ways that mattered, for some strange and unexplainable reason Motova had become very intriguing to Bezuhov, though he hadn't uttered a single word since being socked in the jaw. At first the jailer thought he was imagining it, but as he watched the man moving around in the cell, he could see something odd fading in and out of the light. It was a thin, almost translucent line of light wrapping around his head just above his eyebrows. As the man walked about, Bezuhov could see the line reappearing and then disappearing again and again, but it didn't resurface all at once. It would start as a faded dot about three inches away from his forehead and then trace a path around the man's skull until it connected with itself again in the front, the faintest line of blunted white reappearing and then disappearing as he moved back and forth under the room's bulb.

He stared at the man for hours and hours, watching this halo-like vision appear and disappear over and over again throughout that first day and in the days that followed. Although he never told anybody, Bezuhov would see this "vision", as he went on to call it, in many individuals in the decades that followed and eventually he came to understand it well.

Like the Kari Dietz woman, the psychiatric profession might have called it a delusion, or maybe a hallucination, but Bezuhov knew the truth. He knew what it was the moment he saw it again around the forehead of a second prisoner, on the woman he and the other jailers had been raping in the cell next to Motova. As Bezuhov angrily plunged himself into the woman, he could see the halo appearing brighter the more she suffered.

He could well have decided it was the beginning of a sickness embedding itself into his mind, perhaps seeded by the guilt brought to pass by his terrible deeds. Regardless, his opinion of what he was seeing never changed from the first moment his saw it. It was God's warning that he, Bezuhov, was forcing the innocent to suffer. Were these people really saints, those beloved by God more than all the rest? Perhaps, yes. That made sense to Bezuhov after torturing and killing so many others in the years that followed that day in the cell with Motova. He noticed the youngest victims of his ambitions had halos that were most obvious. And these deductions were reinforced more when he was instructed to kill some of the most ruthless leaders working for the State, those who had fallen from grace. Those individuals never showed any such manifestations encircling their foreheads. Eventually, these visions penetrated Bezuhov's soul and forced him into realizing one decisive truth: God was real, though it never set his ambitions aside for the sake of power and treasure.

On the fourteenth day, Bezuhov continued to watch Motova and his reappearing-disappearing halo pacing back and forth across his cell. The jailer knew the man's time was soon coming to an end. The prisoner still insisted he didn't have any information the government would find vital. Nothing to increase their understanding of the things troubling them in the city, or about those who felt themselves more understanding of the needs of its people than did its leaders. What fools they were to believe such things. The only reason the man wasn't already dead was because the jailer holding him prisoner was still deciding if his future ambitions were more important than whatever wrath God had reserved for those killing his beloved. Bezuhov's final decision was horrific and far different than the decision he might have made as a man with fewer days ahead than those behind him. No, the eager young man making the decision was looking forward to a long life ahead, a life in which he would take full advantage of the generosities his superiors were willing to share. He knew very well of course his decision would hang over his head for the rest of his life and especially as he grew older. Every time he murdered the innocent, the manifestation would act as a reminder of the ultimate judgment to come. Still, God gave man the free will to make such decisions on their own… and so he did.

Bezuhov stood. "Я думаю, что это - время для Вас, чтобы начать говорить нам всем, что Вы знаете о тех, которые работают против Государственных амбиций, товарища." ("I think it's time for you to begin telling us all you know about those working against the State's ambitions, comrade.")

Motova turned to face him. ("But I don't know anything.")

Bezuhov sneered and then reached back to rap on the door behind him. The door opened and three men quickly entered the room holding a chair. Motova's eyes widened as the men came at him.

("No, please, I told you I don't know anything. I don't know anything!")

They grabbed the man and lashed him to the chair once again. They removed his shoes and tied his bare feet up on a stool. As they turned to leave, one of the men threw a bag on the desk in front of Bezuhov.

("See to the woman next door,") Bezuhov instructed them.

They smiled as they left, leaving the door open behind them. Motova could hear another door open in the hallway beyond and the woman in the room next to him started to scream again.

("Hold her!") yelled one of the men and Motova could hear somebody slapping the woman as she screamed and cried out in pain.

("Comrade Motova, you will tell us all you know about the following individuals,") Bezuhov said. ("Slava Mikhaylova, Nataniel Porkhomovskiy, Arkadi Shostakovich, Pavel Shulgin, and Dominik Vydrina.")

Motova looked frightened. In all the time he was a prisoner, he never believed he could tell them anything of vital importance. Now he wasn't so sure. The men called out by his jailer were people Motova knew personally. Good men with wives and children. If he were to tell the guard anything about these men, would they also be hauled in and beaten?

("Do you recognize these names, comrade?") Bezuhov asked him.

("Some of them, yes.")

("How do you know them?") The woman in the room next door screamed again. Motova could hear them whipping her.

("I want you to start from the beginning, when you met each of them, when you spent time with them, what you discussed, and whether or not you know of any anti-government activities where they were involved.")

("But these men are not anti-government. Mikhaylova and Porkhomovskiy are musicians. Vydrina is a teacher at the University.")

Bezuhov stood to come around the desk and opened the bag. He removed a thick wooden club from within its folds. ("Is there anything else you would like to tell me?")

The woman next door screamed again.

("Please, there's no reason to hurt me. I swear I'll tell you all I know, and then you will see these men have done nothing…")

Bezuhov reached back and slammed the bottom of Motova's arches with the club and the man yelled out in pain. Another blow was delivered again before Motova had a chance to catch his breath. It sent the man into a fit of pain so intense, he felt the muscles in his neck popping as he threw his head back to scream. Another seven blows were viciously delivered before the jailer stopped. Bezuhov came forward quickly and grabbed the top of the man's hair to yank his head forward.

("You and your friends are traitors, comrade Motova! You will tell us everything you know of these men, or you will never walk out of this prison!") He was released and Motova cried out in chorus with the woman in the adjoining room.

Bezuhov was slowly circling the man. ("You should understand, comrade… it is not just your life you put at risk for these so called friends of yours. Your family is in great danger as well.")

Through the pain and the tears, Motova peered up at the man glaring down at him.

("My family?")

("Especially… your wife.")

There was another scream from the next cell and Bezuhov looked over at the wall and then back again to Motova. The look on his face darkened.

("No…,") Motova mumbled through his sobs. There was another scream through the wall and the man tried to think. Was that his wife's voice? Was that the mother of his children in suffering and screaming? He looked up again at Bezuhov.

("No!")

("No? So you doubt me, comrade?")

Bezuhov turned and left the room and Motova could hear him entering the cell next to him.

("Stop!") Bezuhov yelled out over the woman's screams.

("Shut up, bitch!") Bezuhov yelled at her. ("I want you to say your husband's name!") She was slapped again. She started to cry louder and suddenly Motova thought there was something in her voice that sounded terribly familiar.

("Your husband is in the room next to you. Call out to him!") She was hit again. ("Call out to him!")

Finally Motova heard it, his own name bellowing into the hallways of that hellish place.

("Timofei!")

Motova was instantly overcome with panic and fear. ("Alina! Alina! Please, don't hurt her. Please!")

("Timofei?") The woman could hear her husband's voice. ("Timofei! Don't let them hurt the children!") She was slapped again. She screamed and then yelled out, ("Timofei, they took the children!")

("No! Stop it! Please… I'll tell you anything you want to know. Anything! Please let her go.") The man Motova slumped over as he listened to his wife being beaten and battered.

Ten minutes later, Bezuhov reentered Motova's cell and the prisoner watched with tears in his eyes as his jailer reached down to button his pants.

("Please… let my wife go. She knows nothing, nothing.")

("I told you days ago… you didn't know what you were missing over there, didn't I?")

Motova was completely lost in his sorrow and pain, but still his mind was repeating his wife's words of warning again and again. ("Is it true? Do you have my children in here as well?") He waited in horror for the answer.

Bezuhov smiled. ("Your boys are in another building, but your daughters…") he shrugged, ("are soon to be enjoyed by my men much like your wife.")

That was truly the beginning of the end for Motova. He told his captors everything he knew about his friends and even some things he knew to be false because he thought it might make the information more valuable to them. Friends or not, all he cherished in the world was screaming in the rooms around him. Afterward, several men who knew Motova were arrested as part of the great purge in the city of Moscow. And on the twentieth day of his captivity the blast of a bullet shattered Motova's halo, the most fragile of glass and sign of light God had ever created.

The gun's explosion awoke Bezuhov from his dream with a start. His bedroom door had been slammed open against its stops as the muscled man entered the room.

"Мы имеем проблему в университете." ("We have a problem at the university.")

174


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19d03

Chapter 19 (Draft 03)

The rain poured from the heavens that night and at the time it was probably a very good thing. It meant the students of the university campus would be off the streets, attending instead to their studies and the philosophies of man. The knolls and property surrounding the Wetzler School of Medicine, a building only recently renamed in honor of its dead division head, was well lit; a testament to the fact the medical staff inside always worked a little later than everybody else. The rain slammed into the walkway that ran in a straight line one hundred yards from the building's front to the street below. The thunder rolled in the blackness overhead as the doors suddenly flew open and five men and two women hurried outside.

"Robert, what's going on? Are we in some kind of danger?" Kari stopped in her tracks when she felt the rain hitting her. She looked up and cursed the sky again.

"Just keep moving toward the street. I'll explain everything when we're in the car," Robert yelled back over the rumble overhead.

FBI Agent Ramirez was pulling Doctor Howard along by his bicep, the doctor's hands still handcuffed behind his back. Koslov had his gun out as he led the way, pausing only slightly to look for anybody suspicious around them. He then jabbed a finger into his ear to speak.

"We're outside now, front of the building, heading east toward the street. Have the cars ready, copy?"

For his part, Ethan had completely thrown his trust into Robert's care. Like Kari, he was completely ignorant about what might be happening, but when it came to Sally's safety he decided to obey precisely the orders given him. Whatever questions he had could certainly wait. He held tight to Sally's hand as the group hit the sidewalk and then moved as quickly as they could toward the street without breaking into a run.

Robert reached back to grab Kari's hand. "Koslov?"

"Cars are on the way, five minutes!"

"Bullshit, five minutes. We might not have that much time."

"The woods on the other side of the street will give us cover," Koslov replied. "We can stake out a defensive position there if we have to."

"Robert. Are we in danger? What's happening?" Kari said, as she broke into a jog to match Robert's pace.

"Yes, we are," he said looking over at her. "In fact, we're in some serious shit right now. Keep moving and I'll explain everything later."

The group finally reached the street and then stopped.

"Roman, where's the God damned car? I could have called my mother and got a faster response!"

The agent was talking into his ear again. He looked back at Robert. "One minute. We stay here!"

Robert let go of Kari's hand and then removed his gun. The cop and the two agents encircled the group, their guns pointing into the open areas surrounding them.

"Here they come," Koslov said, pointing at the two sets of headlights speeding up the street.

Robert frowned as the vehicles came into view, two black vans in staggered formation.

"Are you sure they're your people?" Robert said worriedly.

"Definitely not!" Ramirez yelled out. "Everybody DOWN!" He shoved Howard to the ground and Robert did the same to Kari. Ethan dropped, pulling Sally down and covering her body with his own.

The vans screeched to a stop and the side doors flew open. In an instant, three hooded men with black ski masks jumped out of the first vehicle followed quickly by three more from the second. They moved with precision, like a SWAT team holding small machine guns.

"Drop you weapons!" yelled one of the men with an eastern dialect.

"Seattle Police Department!" Robert yelled back, pointing his Glock at them. "Drop those weapons now!"

"FBI!" Shouted Ramirez. "Lower your weapons or I will be forced to fire!"

For a moment, both sides seemed frozen in time, long enough to hear the thunder rolling over their heads. The back of the vans flew open and two more men jumped out with AKs."

"Roman — talk to these motherfuckers!" Ramirez said nervously. "Tell them our people are on the way!."

"Закройте испортить!" one of the Russians yelled back, jabbing the barrel of his machine gun forward.

Koslov took a small step forward, his gun moving to take aim at the Russian who had spoken. "Женщина в середине, покрытой человеком - тот, который Вы хотите. Если она убита, мы - все мертвые!" he blistered back at the man.

Nobody moved. Nobody was breathing. Koslov took a step back and then raised his free hand as if to calm the armed men standing in front of them. "Я буду заботиться об этом," he told them. He then turned quickly and fired his weapon at Ramirez's forehead and Kari and Sally screamed. Ramirez was dead before he hit the sidewalk and Koslov turned again to point his weapon at Robert.

"Drop it, detective!"

Robert was shell shocked. He looked down at Ramirez's head pouring something black onto the rain-soaked walk, his vision tunneling as he looked horrified back up at Koslov. He was immediately slammed on the side of the face and the world went black.

Robert awoke to the sound of crying.

"Robert, please wake up. Please, please open your eyes for me." It was Kari's voice. She sounded worried. He could feel her pressing something soft into the side of his face. He instantly remembered the Russians, the sidewalk outside the university, Ramirez being shot. Robert bolted up, but someone slammed a boot into his chest to put him back down.

"Спуститесь!" yelled one of the Russians. Robert could barely see the barrel of a gun pointing at his face in the darkness.

"Stop it," Kari screamed. "Leave him alone!"

The Russian lifted his boot as Kari leaned forward over him.

"Robert. Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you fine. What's going on? Where are we?"

"They hit you. You might have a concussion." She looked around and sniffed. Although it was too dark to see anything, he could tell they were on the move. "We're in the van now. They have Sally, Ethan and Glad in the other van."

She leaned in close to look at the side of his head. "Robert… I don't understand. Were those other two men with the FBI?"

"Yeah, they were."

"Then why did one of them shoot the other?"

Robert tried to move, but found his wrists tied behind his back. "I guess Koslov was working for Bezuhov."

"Working for who?"

Robert tried to think. Bezuhov had his mole in the FBI all along. No wonder they couldn't get anything on Bezuhov when he was talking to Kari's uncle. Koslov was probably warning him about the warrants. Robert looked up at the dark outline of Kari above him.

"I'll explain later."

"Who are these people and what are they going to do with us?"

That, Robert thought, was a very good question. It was obvious Bezuhov wanted Sally and perhaps Kari's uncle, but he still wasn't sure why. Even with his head still spinning, it didn't take Robert long to realize he and Kari didn't fit into the picture in any important way. He suddenly didn't like the idea of being separated from the others.

"I don't know," Robert answered her honestly before the obvious hit him. Both he and Kari and maybe Ethan were all dead. They had all witnessed one of Bezuhov's FBI moles killing his partner. Certainly Koslov's position as one of Bezuhov's men in the Bureau would be vastly more important than three prisoners.

Robert looked up at Kari again, his fear building. "Hug me," he whispered to her.

"What?" Kari whispered back.

"Please… hug me, Kari."

He could see her outline moving forward and when she was against him he whispered into her ear, "Kari, we're in very serious danger. I want you to promise me that if you get a chance, you'll try and get away." He could feel the fear increasing in her body. "Don't say anything, just listen to me. They're probably going to kill us unless we break away. Promise me you'll try even if I can't go with you."

"Oh Robert, I'm so scared… I'm so scared."

"So am I, but I want you to promise me you'll run if you get the chance."

"Достаточный разговор, Вы два!" Spat the Russian again, kicking Robert in the side.

He could feel Kari squeezing his hand. For now… it was enough.

The van continued on its way, the steady strobe of the streetlamps intermittently displacing the darkness through the windows. It was enough to see the four men seated stoically on benches around them; they were staring at Kari. Their eyes looked dead, almost drugged.

Robert knew the city very well. He tried to concentrate on the path and turns the van was taking. He listened for anything that might give him a clue about their heading. He squeezed Kari's hand a hard again and she immediately came forward.

"Watch for any signs, anything to tell us where we're going."

"I am," she whispered back.

That's my girl.

There was a flash of something green outside and Robert could see Kari in the fading light looking up interestedly. There was another flash and Robert saw a sign with Interstate symbols. Interstates five and four-0-five, but were they north or south of the city? He saw another sign for the airport. They were heading south.

They drove for another hour before Robert could feel the van slowing. It finally stopped in front of a warehouse, there was a honk, and the double doors began to open. The vans moved inside, the doors flew opened and the prisoners pulled out.

"Remember what I said, Kari," Robert said nervously, looking around to see their captors pushing Ethan, Sally and Howard deeper into the building. Robert and Kari were then forced to follow.

They were led into an inner building and eventually to a large living space in complete contrast to the rest of the warehouse surrounding them. There were comfortable couches and chairs, ornate rugs and beautiful paintings on the walls. There was a fully stocked bar, a large desk, several television sets pushed into one of the walls and, Robert's eyes widened, a telephone sitting on the desk.

The guards escorting them moved to the sides of the room and then turned to watch them, their guns left purposely in plain sight. To the left, a large fireplace crackled warmly and several pictures sat upon its mantel. Next to the fire was another couch where a teenager and a young boy sat staring at them. The boy who looked like a common field hand of Latino decent was petting a sleeping puppy on his lap.

"Dad?" one of the boys mumbled. "Dad!" The teenager suddenly leapt from the couch and ran forward, but it wasn't until he almost crashed into Doctor Howard that Kari recognized him.

"Benny! Oh my God, it's Benny!" Kari cried out.

Still handcuffed, the doctor started to cry tears of overwhelming joy at seeing his missing son again.

"My boy, my dear son," he moaned, kissing to top of Benny's head again and again as Kari came forward to hug the two of them.

"Ah, a family reunion," came a dry voice from the right. The group looked around to see eight people walking forward in black lab coats lead by an old man in an electric wheelchair.

"How very nice. Certainly, Doctor Howard, you have earned this moment fully." The old man said, stopping in front of them to smile.

Kari looked around at Bezuhov and then back to Howard. "Uncle Glad, do you know this man?"

"Yes he does, Miss Dietz, he most certainly does. Your uncle has been in my employ for nearly a year now."

Kari frowned at the man.

"How do I know your name?" the old man said. "Miss Katherine Dietz — Kari for short. Your mother is Doctor Howard's sister, of course, which is how you were able to gather so much attention to your friend's unusual condition. You graduated five years ago from the Seattle University School of Nursing with minimum effort and grades." The old man seemed to sneer at her. "You should learn to apply yourself more, young lady. You're much more capable than you think," he added grandfatherly. "You are currently dating…" he turned in his wheelchair to face Robert.

"Robert Michael Coleman, Detective Second Class of the Seattle Police Department. Mother's name is Patricia and your father's name was Patrick; Pat and Pat. I thought that rather comical when I read your file. I must say, detective, you've been giving my men fits over the last few months… with all your snooping and prying."

Robert huffed and then thought to leverage whatever knowledge he had of the man. "Alexander Bezuhov of the old Soviet KBG, founder of the Red Mafia, one hundred and three years old, currently living in Los Angeles. You're a long way from home, sir."

Bezuhov smiled back. "It is pronounced Ah-lek-s-ahn-der. And the only reason you know so much about me, detective, is because I allowed my man to give you that information. You don't know how many people have died trying to earn what I freely gave to you."

"What your man gave to me? You mean that murdering son of a bitch, Koslov?"

"Now — now, detective. I suggest you hold onto your anger until I give you a truer, more personal, reason to feel exasperated." The look on Bezuhov's face changed to resemble something already dead. Robert did not answer as the old man turned his chair again.

"Mr. Ethan Dodge, born in Danvers Nebraska, distant relative of General Ethan M. Dodge… of Promontory Summit fame, owner and proprietor of _Ethan__ Books and Stationary_; a traveler of many countries in the desperate search for good literature." Bezuhov cocked his head as if the study him.

"I take it you found something by Tolstoy in my homeland in which to make a profit? You Americans do seem to gravitate toward the aristocracy."

Ethan didn't respond and the old man smiled.

"I've never known a man engaging in so passionate a quest to pass up the opportunity to discuss their obsessions, Mr. Dodge. Not a fan of the Count?"

Ethan swallowed hard. "I have… a first English edition of _The Kingdom of God Is Within You_, published in 1894."

Bezuhov rolled his eyes. "A societal org chart based on the literal interpretation of the word of God." The old man stopped to think. "Tell me, Mr. Dodge, what you do think of the writer's opinion that any government that wages war is an affront to Christian principles?" Ethan did not respond. "I personally believe changing society into something non-violent would be disastrous to the survival of man. After all, protecting one's self is a part of our nature, wouldn't you agree?"

Ethan looked around at his friends and then slowly shook his head. "To think, 'That this social order with its pauperism, famines, prisons, gallows, armies, and wars is necessary to society; that still greater disaster would ensue if this organization were destroyed; all this is said only by those who profit by this organization, while those who suffer from it – and they are ten times as numerous – think and say quite the contrary.'"

Bezuhov rolled his head back to laugh, which immediately lead him into a fit of uncontrollable coughing. The doctors in black came forward quickly, but he stopped them with an exaggerated and flapping wave.

After the old man had recovered, he looked up at Ethan again. "Well done, young man. I see my reports stressing your sharp intellect and recall for doggerel were not exaggerated. Your keen recollection might spawn the belief you penned those words to paper yourself. I presume you to be as aspired as Gandhi by the man, but Tolstoy was a fool. Certainly you can see your standing here with your friends proves that, don't you?" The old man's eyes turned deadly cold. "I should think**Sergey Kozlov brought more to the world of literature than did the Count." **

**"I'm not surprised," Ethan replied flatly. "Like you, Kozlov's fairytales refused the sharp distinctions between good and evil." **

The old man smiled again and then leaned forward. "I'm afraid the evil found here with me will be easily discerned, Mr. Dodge."

Frightened, **Sally stepped forward to thread her hand under Ethan's arm and Bezuhov turned slightly to smile up at her.**

**"****Ah — and here we have the leading lady of the show. Mrs. Sally Carmichael of Shubert Nebraska, ninety-three years young." Bezuhov rolled forward to examine her more fully and Sally stepped back in response. Bezuhov looked somewhat disappointed by her reaction to him. **

**"****Fear me not, madam. After all, I am your biggest admirer and contributor to your continued good health."**

**"Why have you ****brought us here? What do you want?"**

**Bezuhov turned and rolled back. "What do I want?" He looked to Howard. "What is it we want, doctor? Maybe you can explain it to her."**

**Howard looked terrified. Now that he had found his son again, it was clear he was desperate to ****appease the man in the chair. **

**"****To study her condition."**

**"Specifically?" Bezuhov added.**

**"Specifically... the things that have caused her aging process to reverse."**

**"Very good. Thank you, doctor."**

**"But, to what end?" Sally asked him. "How would kidnapping me benefit you?"**

**"I ****do apologize for insisting on this step, Mrs. Carmichael, but your unfortunate decision to leave the university left me with very few options. It is most critical that we continue studying your case." He began to cough again. **

**Sally looked furious. "So I am to be kept ****here as your prisoner and expected to submit myself to whatever you need from me?"**

**Bezuhov's expression turned cold. It terrified Sally even before he spoke. "If you expect your friends to survive my company and to live a fruitful life in the years ahead... yes, I most certainly do."**

**Sally couldn't respond. S****he found herself reaching back to Ethan again. His hand was very cold. He was frightened too. **

**Bezuhov turned again. "Now then, I hope all of you will choose to accept my hospitality without succumbing to the temptation or thoughts of escape. I will warn you of this only once… that would be most unwise." The rubber under his wheels squeaked as if to emphasis his point.**

**"****Although you all look to be in equal good health, you should understand that I do not think of you as equals. In all of nature, there is a pecking order and so it is true here as well. If I am displeased with your actions during our time together or if Mrs. Carmichael is not satisfyingly willing to continue with our tests, then there will be consequences. And I'm afraid the others will have to suffer those consequences." He looked at Robert. **

**"Detective Coleman, you are the truest danger to me here. The only reason you're not already dead is because I was afraid my killing you would not allow this time of quiet discourse with Mrs. Carmichael. But if anything should happen to make me regret my earlier decision to keep you alive, you ****would be the first to leave us." **

**His head turned to face Ethan. "Mr. Dodge would ****then move to the top of my 'thou shalt be first' list, although I did struggle somewhat between choosing you over Miss Dietz in the order of things. Although I believe it would be equally traumatic to Mrs. Carmichael to see either if you die, I have thus defaulted once again to the one who would be the most dangerous in my presence. There is an old **Bratva **saying: 'The strongest of two is always the first to go.'" **

**He looked again at Kari. "And besides, the manner in which an execution takes place, especially when it involves a young and beautiful woman, can be very useful when enforcing a point." There was movement to the side and they all turned to watch the men in black set their rifles down to remove their ski masks. They were all staring at Kari.**

**"Young Benny Howard would be next — although I doubt his father would be of much use to me afterward, so I should think they would leave together if that time should come." He turned again.**

**"And then****… there is Mrs. Carmichael who shares the top of the food chain while in my presence with one other." He paused. "Oh, but where are my manners?" He slowly rolled to the left and toward the couch where the young Latino boy sat with his puppy. **

**"****Levántese!" the old man whispered. **

**The boy moved the puppy off of his lap and slowly got to his feet. **

**Bezuhov smiled cordially and then turned to face group again. **

**"I'd like you all to meet Tiago Lopes of Brazil." Bezuhov looked at the boy. "Diga hola, Tiago."**

**The boy looked terrified ****as he slowly raised his hand to say, "Hola."**

**Kari immediately came forward to look down at the boy. "Hola, Tiago." She bent down to peer into the boy's eyes and then around at his body and arms. She reached out to touch his face, but the boy stepped back. ****"It's okay, I won't hurt you. I'm a nurse."**

**"Ella es una enfermera," growled a voice behind her and Kari could see the boy's eyes soften toward her. She reached up again to smooth his black hair back and then felt around his chin.**

**"You will find Tiago in perfect health, Miss Dietz. I wouldn't allow the boy to fall ill in my care."**

**"Who is he?" Kari asked unconsciously, as she inspected his hands and arms. There no answer until Kari looked back. **

**"Who is he?"**

**Bezuhov was staring at the boy and then whispered, "The future." The old man turned to face the group. **

**"Do any of you speak Spanish or Portuguese?" Nobody replied. "No? That's a shame, because I am sure you would find Tiago quite knowledge for one so young; it's disappointing to know you won't be able to take advantage of his wisdom." He turned again to face Sally.**

**"So, Mrs. Carmichael, I trust you understand the position I'm putting you in. I expect your complete cooperation over the next few weeks as we work to finish our tests. Can I count on your collaboration?"**

**Sally was frightened, but she understood well the risks to her friends if she refused. "I don't seem to have a choice in the matter, given you might hurt my friends otherwise."**

**The old man smiled. "Thank you, madam."**

**"Sally, you don't have to agree to this." Robert cut in. He then looked at Bezuhov. "He's probably going to kill us anyway."**

**"Now-now, detective… you shouldn't frighten the ladies with your morbid assumptions."**

**"I'm a police officer who witnessed your man murdering an FBI agent. We know who you are and that you kidnapped Benny Howard. You probably abducted the Brazilian boy as well. I have no delusions about our future with you… and neither should Sally."**

**Bezuhov smiled and then rolled forward. Two men with guns came forward as well, but were halted by an invisible tic of annoyance that the old man needed their assistance. He looked up at the detective. **

**"So young," Bezuhov said sympathetically. "Detective Coleman, you lack an appreciation of time and what one moment, one extra minute of it, can buy you in this living world. If you live as long as me, you might understand how precious time can be, even if only to take a breath unimpaired. You should learn to cherish whatever time has been granted you to enjoy." The old man turned again and rolled into the waiting crowd of doctors in black. "Decide not the value of time now, detective. Remember… 'nothing 'gainst time's scythe can make defence save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.'" **

**Bezuhov looked back over his shoulder at Ethan who whispered, "**William Shakespeare."

The old man smiled again before exiting the room as one of the guards tossed something to Robert. He caught it and looked down. It was the key to Howard's handcuffs.

182


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20d08

Chapter 20 (Draft 08)

Even Detective Coleman had to admit their stay with Bezuhov wasn't anything like they thought it would be after that first day. Their gathered expectations had them thinking they would be stuffed into a cell somewhere or maybe tied up in a wet basement, the smell of mold invading what few dreams they had left in their short lives. Instead, each was given their own bedroom in which to sleep with an adjoining bathroom. There was a watching camera even in these private quarters, of course, but considering what their expectations had been when they first arrived at the warehouse, the amenities offered were a comfortable surprise. Breakfast was always waiting for them in the mornings when they returned to the sitting room and where their Russian warden had first introduced himself to the group. As expected, the unguarded phone in the room was disconnected, as were the telephones and TV sets in their individual bedrooms. Two days later, several suitcases showed up on their beds with articles of clothing and toiletries from their homes. The laundry was collected each morning after they left for breakfast and then found clean and folded upon their return to their beds that evening. A daily newspaper was also delivered for them to share.

There was only one small story reporting the murder of Agent Rodriguez in the paper the day after they arrived at the warehouse. Unfortunately, there was so little detail about the incident that it bordered on the ridiculous. It didn't say anything about the university campus, or mention any of their names as individuals missing after the shooting. In fact, as compared to what really happened, the story was so thin of facts that it left Robert wondering if Bezuhov had the newspaper's editor on his payroll as well.

The armed guards remained in the sitting area when they were allowed to leave their bedrooms. Watching from their huddled groups in eight-hour shifts, most of their attention seemed to be focused on Kari and Sally. Kari was apprehensive about their stares, but Sally seemed oblivious to it. Kari jokingly said it had been so long since Sally captured a man's attention, she was no longer able to recognize it when it happened. This wasn't the case, however, with Ethan Dodge. He saw their longings and greedy stares well enough to describe the guards as looking like a pack of starving dogs and, for Sally's sake, they truly frightened him.

They rarely saw Doctor Howard after that first day. Apparently, the devil Bezuhov was still holding the man hostage to whatever bargain he had committed himself, and Kari's uncle seemed almost eager to help them given the fact his son's life was now hanging on his results.

The first week went by uneventfully. Nothing was really asked of them other than to "enjoy the amenities offered by their host." To everybody's surprise, Sally said the doctors in black were now working with Howard to study her condition, but were moderately undemanding of her.

**The Brazilian boy, Tiago, didn't ****speak much, although it wouldn't have mattered given the language barriers they shared. At around noon each day, the boy was taken away with Sally to an underground lab by two of the armed guards only to return later for dinner, looking a bit tired but unharmed. **

**They all took their turns trying to speak to Tiago during their meals together, but the boy seemed too frightened to mumble more than a few words in Spanish in reply. Given what he had undoubtedly been going through while in Bezuhov's hands, they eventually decided to leave Tiago alone with his puppy. **

Their lives together seemed to fall into a mundane, if not plodding pace, but all of that changed at the end of the third week.

Sally was returning from her examinations in a state of physical exhaustion. So much so, in fact, that sometimes she was pushed to the dinner table in a wheelchair by one of the guards. And during their meals together she seemed more removed from the group and reluctant to talk about what the doctors were doing to her. More than anybody else, Ethan was consumed by her distractions, convinced Sally had been keeping most of her abuses a secret from them. The situation got worse as the days passed until one night when **Tiago** arrived at dinner alone.

"Where's Sally?" Ethan asked the boy worriedly.

The boy looked around the room and seemed just as surprise as the rest that she hadn't returned.

"Salida? No sé."

Ethan and Kari immediately fell into a panic.

"Where is Sally?" Ethan yelled out to the guards in the room. They instantly stopped their quiet discussion and looked up.

"Where's Sally Carmichael?"

One of the men jerked his chin forward. "Закрытый и садятся!"

Ethan immediately came forward toward them. "Where is she?"

Four of the men straightened to swing their rifles away from their shoulders.

"Ethan, stop!" Robert warned him. Ethan finally halted but only to look back. He looked both frightened and angry.

"She's never missed dinner with us. What have they done to her?"

Kari came forward and then stopped to look around the room for anybody who might be listening to them.

"Mr. Bezuhov, please… where is Sally?" There was a long silence before the old man's voice could be heard reverberating throughout the room. It was obvious he had been prepared for their frightened reaction.

"Not to worry, Miss Dietz. Mrs. Carmichael is in good condition and resting. The latest tests were rather tiring on her, despite her renewed strengths as a younger woman. She is sleeping conformably in her bedroom.

Ethan immediately turned to leave, heading toward the hallway and their rooms, but the guards stepped in to block his path.

"I'm afraid I will have to ask you to leave Sally alone tonight, Mr. Dodge. In fact, I'm going to insist upon it."

"I want to see her!"

There was a soft click and Bezuhov was gone.

Ethan was furious. He tried to get to the hallway again and when one of the guards moved to stop him, he began throwing a rather laughable array of wind-milling punches at the armed man. Looking surprised at first and then amused, the guard leaned back to avoid the display before delivering a vicious butt to Ethan's stomach with his rifle. Ethan collapsed to the floor, his mouth locked open and struggling for air. Kari immediately threw herself over Ethan's body to shield him from the other guards now moving eagerly in to deliver more punishment.

Robert also came forward, but watched the guards' reaction with studied interest. The four men were huddled around Ethan and Kari on the floor, their rifles out and pointed down at them. As Robert worked to defuse the situation, he was surprised at how quickly the men were ready to act even after a month of tedious guard duty. But there was something else too; he noticed how dependent they were on each other as they moved to regain the upper hand within the circumstances presented them.

"He'll be okay," Robert said calmly, as he refocused his attention back to Ethan. He began to wave the guards away as he helped Kari roll Ethan over onto his back. He pointed an accusing finger down at his friend as if to scold him.

"That was a pretty stupid thing to do, my-man. They could have cracked your head open."

Ethan started to breathe again only to whisper out a struggled, "Sally…"

"Yeah, I know-I know, but she'll be back with us soon enough. You heard Bezuhov tell us how important she was to him. Come on, tough guy… let's get you to your feet."

Kari and Robert heaved him up to stand and then moved him carefully into a chair at the dinner table to recover.

"Ethan, you know Sally is only doing what she's doing to keep us all alive, so I don't think she'd be happy with your heroics."

Robert looked back at the guards who were still grouped together and quietly laughing among themselves. They seemed happy something had finally happened to break the dullness.

For his part, Robert's only ambition in their weeks of captivity was finding a way to escape. He had worked very hard to convince the guards he had reluctantly accepted their position as prisoners. Outmanned and outgunned, he wanted them relaxed while in their presence, but watched them closely for any weaknesses in their routine. As the weeks passed, Robert thought he saw a failing in their being also too relaxed and began to construct a plan around that fact. It involved waiting until the middle of the day when there were only four guards in the sitting room, which meant when they made their move both Sally and **Tiago would be out of harm's way. With Ethan, Benny and Kari's help, they would simultaneously disable as many of the guards as they could and then attack the rest. It was likely one or more of their group would be hurt, even killed, but there was also a chance one of them might survive long enough to get outside or maybe escape. Robert knew the room was being monitored by several cameras, which would immediately bring reinforcements, but that was a risk he couldn't do anything to reduce. He was ready to share his plans with the others with the hope they would agree to participate. He was sure Kari would be willing, given the fact she had been complaining nearly every day about what she grumbled to call, "her rapists in waiting."**

**However, Robert ****anticipated a problem with Ethan. It was clear the man was fearful of anything that might put Sally in danger and participating in a plan of revolt, especially one with Sally out of his reach, would be problematic for him. Of course, Robert had been formulating an argument to counter Ethan's fears, but all of that seemed unnecessary now that he had tried to attack the guards. Ethan was clearly ready to act. Eventually, Robert knew they would all be killed given what they knew about Bezuhov. It was imperative that one of them escape to save the rest. **

**As for Benny, Robert wasn't sure what ****they might gain from the boy's presence among them. From the moment they were reunited, Benny's behavior seemed erratic, almost paranoid. It was obvious he had not faired very well in Bezuhov's care after being taken a hostage from school. It took Howard and Kari almost a week to get his medications aligned to his needs, given the pressure of the situation in which they all found themselves. Robert thought it best to keep Benny in the dark about their plans for revolt until it really became necessary. The added pressure of this knowledge might affect Benny's balance in a way that could put them all at risk.**

Dinner that night was a somber affair. Clearly, Ethan was consumed about being allowed to go to bed so he could knock on Sally's bedroom door. Robert was still watching the guards moving around the perimeter of the room; they seemed tired and looking forward to the change of shift.

Kari was staring at the boy next to her. "**Tiago? Where are your parents?" The question made Robert smile. Kari always hated any long and drawn out stretches of silence given to an unpleasant situation.**

**Tiago ****looked up from his plate of untouched food. He was mindlessly petting the puppy still sitting by his feet, looking for scraps. **

**"Qué?"**

**"Your mom and dad…**** where are they?"**

**The boy looked curiously at her. "Mamá y papá?"**

**"Yes, your mama... where is she?" Kari was struggling to bridge the gap between them. "Ahhh... dónde?"**

**Tiago's face fell. He slowly pointed a finger up. "Con Dios."**

**Sally looked at Robert and Ethan.**

**"They must be dead," Ethan said in a whisper.**

**"Oh, I'm sorry, Tiago. I'm so sorry." She caressed the boy's arm to show her sympathy. **

**Tiago seemed surprised by this gesture. He looked back at the guards and then leaned forward toward her to whisper.**

**"Qué edad tienen usted?"**

**Kari**** frowned. ****"I ah... I don't understand."**

**The boy thought for a moment and then raised his fingers to count, "Un, dos, tres, cuatro ..." he pointed at her, "qué edad?" He flashed his hands open and closed. "Diez, veinte, thrity...?" He pointed at her again, questioningly.**

**"Oh... ****you want to know how old I am?" She replied, laying her hands on her breast in surprise. "Well... I'm twenty-eight." She thought about it and then raised her hands showing ten fingers, "Ten", she flashed another ten and then eight, "twenty, eight."**

**Tiago frowned. He looked over at Robert**** and nodded once. "Usted?" **

**"I'm thirty-two," the detective answered curiously. "Oh, I mean..." he flashed the appropriate number. **

**Tiago looked at Benny, who ****curiously showed him eighteen.**

**The boy frowned again and looked at Ethan who flashed out ****the number forty-five.**

**The boy looked down at his uneaten meal and seemed deep in troubled thought. When he looked up again he asked, "y Salida?"**

**Kari looked over at Ethan. "He wants to know how old Sally is."**

**Ethan raised his hands again and flashed out the appropriate number of years. **

**Tiago's eyes widened in surprise, "Noventa y tres, realmente?"**

**"Yes, ninety-three."**

**The boy ****returned to his private thoughts. **

**"He's obviously confused about Sally's age," Kari said sympathetically to the others. "Who can blame him?"**

**The boy looked up at her and then pointed to himself. "Soy..." He then slowly raised his hands and flashed out ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty, seventy and a few extra fingers.**

**Kari fell back in surprise. "What? Oh my God," she whispered. **

**"How old did he say?" Robert cut in. "Sixty-something?"**

**"Seventy-four, by my count," Ethan answered.**

**Kari ca****me forward again. He pointed at the boy and flashed the count back.**

**For the first time in a month, they saw the boy smile. ****"Sí — sí, setenta y cuatro!"**

**"It's no wonder he was surprised when you asked him about his parents. They've probably been dead for years," Robert added.**

**"But how is that possible?" Kari said. "How can he be that old? Did they do something to him?"**

**Robert leaned in. "Or is he here because he's similar to Sally, somebody who Bezuhov found in Brazil, someone with exactly the same condition?"**

**Kari looked surprised. As she tried to think about how to ask her next question, ****Tiago spoke again.**

**"El cachorro es viejo también," the boy said, pointing down at the puppy at his feet.**

**Tiago could see those around the table looked confused, so he pointed at the dog again and then flashed out sixteen.**

**"What the hell?" Robert said in amazement. **

**They all stood and came around the table to look down at the dog. The yellow retriever appeared no older than ten weeks of age, barely weaned. But as they inspected the animal closer, it suddenly became obvious to all of them the dog did look somewhat younger than when they first arrived at the warehouse. **

**"Are you sure about this, Tiago?" Ethan said.**

**The boy looked up at him, "****Qué?"**

**Ethan flashed out sixteen ****fingers and pointed at the dog again questioningly****.**

**"Sí. Él vivió en nuestra ciudad con su familia."**

**They all ****turned to stare at the dog before slowly returning to their seats to think.**

**"It's got to be something Bezuhov is doing to them," Ethan surmised.**

**Robert nodded. "But if that were true, then why would he need Sally?" They all sat in silence once more. **

**Benny suddenly cut in. ****"I don't think Bezuhov is doing anything to them." Everybody turned to look at him. "I took some Russian in high school, enough to understand a little of what they've been saying about Tiago. I think they're trying to find out why this is happening to him just like they are with Mrs. Carmichael. I didn't really understand what they were looking for until you guys told me what's been happening to her. " He pointed down at the puppy, still sitting expectantly at Tiago's feet. "And the dog too; I think I remember them saying they found it somewhere near Tiago's home town. They've been doing the same tests on him too."**

**"So, whatever this thing is, it's happening in different parts of the world... and not just to humans," Robert said**** out loud to himself. **

**Once again the room was quiet except for the occasional whimper from the puppy still looking to Tiago for another handout. **

**"You know... I remember something funny happening at the hospital when Sally was there last time." **

**"Funny? What do you mean?"**

**Kari was thinking hard, trying to bring forth something of a lost memory. **

**"Interesting..."**

**"What is, Kari?"**

**She looked up at Ethan and then Robert. "It happened before we knew anything about Sally's condition. In fact, now that I think about it, it might have happened right before Sally almost died." She paused again to think and then, "I was running a little late to work one evening and I found this baby bird in the hospital parking lot."**

**"A bird?" Robert asked her.**

**"Yeah — a little house sparrow, I think. The thing looked half drowned from the rain. At the time I thought... you know... that it might have fallen out of its nest or something. I remember thinking how strange it was because it was autumn... late September, and you don't see a lot of baby birds so late in the year. Anyway, I picked him up and set him under a tree to get him out of the rain."**

**"Ah, that was nice," Benny cooed. Kari looked at him to jerk a quick smile. **

**"You should see what she'll do for a stray cat," Robert chuckled to say.**

**Kari ignored him. ****"The thing is," she continued, "when I came out the next morning I went to check on the bird again and..."**

**"Yeah?" Benny seemed very interested in her story. Robert noticed the boy's raging hormones made him overly interested in nearly everything Kari had to say.**

**Kari f****rowned. "The bird was different... a lot different than the night before."**

**"Different, how?" Robert retorted. It had been over a month since he had an opportunity to apply his trade. The detective's mind was moving quickly. **

**"It looked... younger," Kari answered, looking up at him. "It had dropped nearly all of its feathers, most of which sat in a ring around its body. And... it was all pink."**

**"Could have been sick."**

**"No, I don't think so. It was squawking loud enough, but its eyes were closed... kind of skinned over, you know what I mean?"**

**"Like it would look when it was first hatched?" Ethan asked her.**

**Kari**** looked somewhat skeptical but agreed. "Yeah, exactly, like the thing had just broken out of its shell."**

**"You sure it was the same bird?"**

**"I guess I can't be one hundred percent sure, but he was sitting in the exact spot and it was covered the same way I left it." She paused to think again. "I'm positive it was the same bird."**

**"So... ****let's say it was... then what are you thinking?" Robert asked her.**

**"I don't know, but it's strange... isn't it? If it was the same bird, then you could say it was displaying the same condition as Sally and Tiago and the dog. What would that mean?"**

**Robert thought about it and then, "I think it means something is happening in the environment. Maybe sun spots or chemicals in the air, who knows? We have these small pockets in two different parts of the world that, under the right conditions, seem to be affecting some of the life within."**

**"But since that time, we haven't seen anything like Sally at the hospital. Nobody else is getting younger. It's been nearly a year and we haven't heard about any dogs or cats de-aging; there haven't seen any birds turning themselves into eggs in the parking lot. If something is out there causing this then why isn't it still happening?"**

**"Could be a number of reasons," Robert ****answered her. "Could be a something in the environment along with something in their DNA, maybe you need exactly the right conditions at a number of different levels to make it happen."**

**"A very good summary, detective," ****said a voice behind them. It was Bezuhov. To everybody's surprise, the old man looked very frail compared to the last time they had seen him as he was rolled forward clutching his oxygen mask. Half a dozen doctors in black masks and gowns followed in lines to his left and right, like some half-drugged honor guard to a dying emperor. Robert felt his heart leap at seeing their captor struggling to breathe, but his feelings of giddiness were immediately replaced with a pang of fear for Sally. The closer Bezuhov came to death's door, the more Sally would be expected to give whatever she had to save him. **

**Using the control lever on the arm of this chair, the old man ****rolled to a stop at the head of the dinner table where he removed his mask and pushed himself up to straighten. Despite his pale color, his eyes remained bright. **

**"I thought I would join you for dinner, especially after overhearing the level of intelligent conversation being shared tonight. I must say, it took you much longer to bridge the barriers between yourselves and young Tiago here," he said with amusement and pointing at the boy. Tiago sat stone-faced and quiet, clearly frightened by the man's sudden presence among them.**

**"Mr. Bezuhov... I'd like to see Sally. Please, I beg you," Ethan said.**

**"I told you before, Mr. Dodge, Mrs. Carmichael is resting comfortably and shall not be disturbed." The old man glared at Ethan in a way that clearly displayed the annoyance he felt at having to repeat this information. Robert could see Bezuhov clearly had a purpose for being with them and was eager to impose his agenda. He turned this attention to the group once again with a returning smile.**

**"****It would seem your summation is correct, Detective Coleman." Bezuhov looked at him as a proud father would a son who had just gained a better understanding of the world around them. "The changes that have occurred within your friend Sally Carmichael and Tiago and the dog you see with us tonight all have something in common; something I've spend billions in personal treasure to understand. The processes they are going through are indeed remarkable – but what my studies have failed to provide is the one thing connecting them all together."**

**Just then ****Doctor Howard entered the room. He looked extremely worried, like a man who hadn't slept in days. He stopped suddenly when he saw Bezuhov sitting at the dinner table. **

**"Ah, Doctor, excellent – you got my message; please... join us."**

**Howard stared at those seated and then reluctantly obeyed when Bezuhov stretched out a hand to suggest one of the empty chairs. He finally sat**** next to Benny who he kissed lovingly on the top of his head. His manner and shaking hands seemed to betray his most private thoughts: ****_'Everything I'm doing… that I have already done… is for you.'_**** The gesture made Robert feel suddenly anxious again for their safety. **

**Bez****uhov smiled as Ethan leaned in to Howard. **

**"Doctor... how is Sally?" ****he whispered worriedly. **

**"I will NOT warn you again, Mr. Dodge!" Bezuhov howled and two of the guards behind him took a step forward as if to underscore his point. Bezuhov started to cough and then moved his mask over his mouth once more to take in several long breaths. After he had recovered, he continued. **

**"There, now. We were just discussing some of your recent findings, doctor, and your conclusions that what's been happening to our patients might be both genetic and environmental."**

**Howard frowned. "I think... it might be somewhat premature to call it a conclusion at this point... but yes... the hypothesis to date has been substantiated in a number of ways as a result of our tests on Sally and the boy. But we only have the dog as the basis of this hypothesis, and the fact that the animal and the boy are de-aging within a mile of each other's homes has lead to a number of tests that show some promise in our understanding. However, I must repeat my caution, Mr. Bezuhov, the tests do not actually ****_validate_**** this possibility. We only have the dog as sample evidence, so our deductions could be a house of cards."**

**Bezuhov smiled as he looked ****back at the group. "The analytical mind of the scientist can be something of a downer, don't you think?" He chuckled to himself before looking back at Howard.**

**"Your cautionary warnings, doctor, are understood well and kept to the forefront of my ambitions - always. However, that was before your young niece made us aware of another piece of sample evidence that strengthens your hypothesis."**

**Howard turned to Kari. "Really...? What evidence? Kari, what's he talking about?"**

**Kari looked confused as she looked back at Bezuhov. "I... don't know what you mean."**

**Bezuhov's eyes seemed to sparkle with delight. "Tell your uncle the story about the bird you found in the Mercy Center parking lot." **

**Kari's frown lifted and then with some hesitation she retold her experience. After she was done, Howard fell back in amazement. **

**"This is incredible, astounding!" He looked over to Bezuhov. "We need to go to the hospital and collect some samples immediately: water, the grass, the trees, any nests, egg fragments, air appraisals, a UV analysis should be done to..."**

**Bezuhov raised a hand to stop him. "My men are already on the grounds as we speak, doctor. Your samples will be here in the morning." **

**The old man ****smiled coyly at the others around the table. "After everything I've put him through, even to the point of threatening his family, I respect how quickly his ambitions can set those fears aside; a loyal scientist first and always."**

**Howard's face was immediately drained of color as ****the excitement of the moment was replaced with uncertainty - science with reality. He looked over at his son and after a long pause he moved a shaking hand to grip Benny's shoulder and pulled him into a tight embrace. Bezuhov was right, and Howard was clearly ashamed of himself. **

**"****That's why I chose you, Doctor Howard. A man of science set before self… and selfishness." **

**The old man turned to stare at Robert for a measure of time that seemed endless. On and on the two glared at each other as if set to compete. They were as silent as they were threatening and knowing, and Bezuhov's brow darkened as he peered deeper into Robert's soul. It was as though he could at last recognize the ghost of a murdered enemy hiding within the cop's innermost nature as a man. Bezuhov finally blinked and then turned his head slightly to bury his face into his oxygen mask, never taking his eyes off of Robert as he forced his weakened lungs to breathe. He finally lifted the mask and turned his attention to the rest. **

"You are… my reluctant guests in this place, and despite what you might think of me and my actions in kidnapping and mistreating you personally, I want you to know that I am not unsympathetic to the abuses I've put you through." The old man paused as if to think carefully about his next words. His spirit looked lost, almost marooned.

"I am forced to make a difficult decision very soon." He looked up to stare at the Tiago, the man disguised as a boy among them. "This will be over very soon, so I ask for your patience just a while longer." He turned his attention back to Robert, his manner changing to convey the inner blackness resident within his core. "Make no attempt to complicate the remaining time we have together. If any of you try to escape…" he stared at Robert in a way that seemed to shine the brightest light on the detective's deepest ambitions, "my men will kill all of you without remorse."

**Bezuhov turned to leave the table****, and as he rolled into the center of men in black, a bolt of anger seemed to flash through Howard's entire body. The stress over the last several weeks were too much to keep buried within him any longer. He immediately stood. **

**"Let my son go!" **

**Bezuhov stopped and then slowly turned in his chair again to stare back at him. Those still sitting at the table were left holding their breath waiting for his reaction. The old man thought for a moment and then smiled, as if thinking he had found the perfect reply. **

**"'****Until** thought is linked with purpose there is no intelligent accomplishment,' doctor. 'With the majority the bark of thought is allowed to drift upon the ocean of life. Aimlessness is a vice, and such drifting must not continue for him who would steer clear of catastrophe and destruction.'"

The old man looked to Ethan. "And… the author, Mr. Dodge?" Ethan shook his head and Bezuhov seemed disappointed and somewhat troubled as he turned and left the room.

When they were alone, Ethan looked at Robert and Kari. "_As A Man Thinketh_, by James Allen. It was the author's second book he published in England in 1904." He looked at the door where Bezuhov had disappeared and huffed, "They themselves are makers of themselves."

Benny started to snicker and his father looked at him in surprise. Kari started to laugh with him and soon everyone was laughing around the table and patting Ethan on the back. The smallest victories are sometimes the greatest victories of all.

192


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21d04

Chapter 21 (Draft 04)

When they were finally allowed to leave the dining room that night, Ethan and Kari went to look for Sally.

"Sally, are you in there?" Ethan called to her, knocking hopefully at her bedroom door.

"Sal? It's Kari. We want to see you, sweetie. We just want to make sure that you're okay." There was no answer.

Ethan looked at Kari. "Do you really think she's in there?"

Kari looked disheartened. "I don't know — maybe not. If she is in there, why won't she answer?"

"Maybe she doesn't want us to worry about her. Maybe she doesn't want us to see her in whatever condition they've left her."

Kari suddenly looked afraid and then turned to the door again. "Sally, open up… please! We have to see you. We have to know you're all right. Are you in there?" Kari looked at Ethan again. "I don't think she's in there."

Ethan wasn't convinced. "Sally? I'm going to stay out here all night if I have to. I need to know you're okay. Please let us see you." He looked at Kari while they listened.

"Watch the door — I'll be right back." He turned and headed back to his room. A moment later he was struggling to push a mattress out into the hallway. He dragged it to Sally's door and dropped it down. He went back to his room again and returned with a blanket and two pillows.

As he threw them down, he said, "Sally, I'm going to sleep outside your door until I see you." Frustrated, he threw himself down onto the make-shift bed and started punching at the pillows under his head while Kari spread the blanket to cover him. She looked up at the door again.

"Ethan is right here, Sal, and I'll be next door." She put an ear to the door to listen and then looked down at Ethan once more. "Come get me if you see her, okay?"

Ethan looked at Sally's room again and nodded.

Kari returned to her room as Ethan lay in the hallway, trying to set aside his fears. He thought about the first day he met Sally next to Mario's fruit stand and how even then she seemed so special to him. His mind laced through their many discussions, their passion for literature and poetry and, eventually, for each other; how she had captivated him. He remembered how beautiful she was when they made love that first night together, her arms wrapped around him, her body heaving and wanting, her tender and loving kisses were so warm and gentle. The man rolled over to face Sally's room and his eyes followed the patterns in the carpet as they weaved their way like tiny streams beneath her door. He prayed she was resting peacefully on the other side. Maybe she was sedated; sleeping away whatever horrors and tortures the old man and his minions continued to deliver.

It took Ethan two full hours to finally fall asleep, and when he did, he dreamed of a little white house somewhere in Nebraska. There was a backyard with a white picket fence lined with watching crows, and there was laughing. The scene pulled back and he saw himself pushing a little girl on a swing. The girl was laughing and arching back as her auburn hair flew back and forth in the summer breeze. Her legs were skinny and bare and her feet skimmed lightly over the freshly cut grass, her white dress was fluttering like wings in the sun.

Two hours later, Sally's door slowly opened and a hand cautiously emerged near the floor. It slid over Ethan's shoulder to his face and lovingly stroked his hair.

"Ethan?" Sally whispered.

Ethan's eyes flew open. "Sally!" He sat up quickly and looked into the cracked door. "Sally, are you all right? I've been so worried."

Her hand came out again to stroke his face. "I'm all right."

Ethan came closer, trying to look at her face through the small opening between them. "Let me see you."

The hand withdrew. "I don't want you to worry about me, Ethan. I just wanted you to know that I was okay."

"Then let me see you, please." He put his hand on the door and tried to push it open, but he could tell she was leaning against it. "Sally?"

"I don't want you to worry about me and I don't want to scare you."

Ethan's blood went cold. "Scare me? Sally, what have they done to you? Please let me in."

"I don't want you to see me like this, Ethan. I just wanted you to know that I'm all right. I'm not in any pain."

Ethan was frantic. "Sally – I demand to see you. For God's sake, let me in." He pushed on the door again, but it wouldn't budge.

Frustrated, Ethan pushed his hand through the crack trying to reach for her. He could feel her hand gently fall into his and then she began kissing in his palm. Tears began to pour from the man's eyes and his voice was hoarse as he leaned in to speak.

"Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;

Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;

But all things else about her drawn

From May-time and the cheerful dawn."

There was a pause and then, "Please… let me in, Sally."

From the darkness on the other side of the door she answered him,

"A perfect Man, nobly plann'd,

To warn, to comfort, and command;

And yet a Spirit still, and bright

With something of angelic light."

Ethan smiled and felt the door gave way. He quickly stood to push it open. He could see Sally moving to sit on her bed in the shadows across the room. She was weeping.

"Sally?"

Ethan entered and then gently sat down beside her. It was still difficult to see in the dark, so he reached over and lifted her chin to look at him. He let out a sharp gasp of surprise. There were at least a dozen metal probes, like thick needles, embedded across the top of her forehead and down the sides of her hair line.

"What the hell?" He whispered. "Oh Sally, what have they done to you?" He cupped her face in his palms and then reached behind her to turn on the light.

"Oh, my God." He could see there were traces of dried blood mingled within her hairline above the needles.

She quickly turned away. "It doesn't hurt. You must believe me."

"How could it not? My God, Sally… what are they doing to you?"

"It was for some kind of brain scan the wanted to do. They said they would finish tomorrow and then remove them."

"Tomorrow? The hell they will! This is inhuman, sadistic, it's fiendish! They'll be removed right now — right God-damned now!"

Ethan stood and yelled at the camera in the corner of the room. The little red light near the lens was shining bright. "I demand that you remove these… these things from her person immediately!" he screamed.

"Ethan, no. Please… it won't help."

"But look at this," he replied, pointing at her hair in frustration. This is barbaric. You're a living, breathing, person… not a lab rat. You deserve respect and…"

"Ethan, please!"

He stopped and then, frustrated, he slowly sat next to her again.

She looked at him and smiled. "Please, just… stay with me tonight." She tuned to lay down, careful to set her head on the edge her pillow. Then she reached back for him. He fell in behind her and wrapped his arms around her body and did his best to comfort her.

"I love you so much, Sally."

"I love you too, Ethan. I couldn't possibly bear this without you."

The old man was frustrated as one of his minions removed the cuff from his arm.

"Ваше давление лучше сегодня, сэр. Это - пять пунктов." ("Your pressure is better today, sir. It's up five points.") Bezuhov waved him off. There was a beep on the table next to him and he reached over with a shaking hand to press a button.

"Какой?"

"Женщина Carmichael имеет гостя."

Bezuhov frowned, pushed another button, and the television next to his chair came to life. He was looking into Sally Carmichael's bedroom and could see Ethan lying next to her. The old man stared at the two of them and then huffed. He shut off the monitor and then pushed the intercom button again.

"Оставьте их быть."

"Да, сэр."

Back in Sally's room, the camera in the ceiling moved to refocus on the two of them lying together in the bed. There was a click and the little red light went out.

Doctor Howard was in an uneasy sleep. It had been the way of things ever since they were locked in the warehouse. The doctor was dreaming about the night in Los Angeles when he first met Bezuhov. The winding road and the men with guns waving him onward up the hill. He saw himself stopping in front of the fountain bathed in that horrible bond-fire light.

Howard frowned and turned in his sleep. "Stop! Go back," he tried to yell, as he watched with anticipation his self emerging from the Volvo to look around.

There was another voice in the background somewhere above him. "It's all your fault."

How could he have been so stupid, so naive about what this madman truly was at the time? How could he have been so ignorant? Was he now finally willing to admit the truth, to say aloud what he clearly knew at the time, that Bezuhov was wicked – so terribly evil? How could he have been so easily taken into the devil's trap? Of course he knew the answer: It was greed that moved him to set aside what his conscious was telling him at the time and shift his morals to some unknown place far away from his family and what he knew to be right in life; to a place where now his very soul was clearly in jeopardy.

Once again, the voice above him was there. "Yes, your greed _is_ the cause. It's all your fault."

Suddenly, Howard was within his own body again, a player in the scene he was reliving in his nightmare. He was staring at the fountain's green light, watching with curiosity as the falling water began to slow. He closed the Volvo's door and watched the water begin to roll like thickening lava down over the fountain's gaudy marble. And then he heard something he hadn't heard previously while living this scene. It was singing. No — it was screaming. Barely audible, but definitively present, why hadn't he heard it before? Howard frowned as he tried to focus his mind on where the screaming was coming from, and then without warning the heat of the lava exploded into a wall of emerald flames. The screams were suddenly louder, as the tortured souls of several people could be seen within the fountain's inferno. Hands flailing and faces peeling and writhing, their grotesque features howled in hideous pain.

"Doctor Howard, thank you for coming."

Howard was startled and turned to find Bezuhov's muscled man standing behind him.

"Your reputation and status herald your arrival. It is an honor to finally meet you."

A cool breeze was now at his back and Howard turned to find the fountain overflowing with water again, the devil's victims silent once more.

"Run away, you fool!" Howard could hear himself yelling, as he watched the picture of himself climbing the steps again.

The scene began to pull back, the picture in his mind rising above the stairs and the white columns, to the floors higher within the great mansion. And there he saw the old man looking down through the window as he climbed the stairs outside. Bezuhov was smiling as Howard finally reached his front door. And then his eyes looked up and into Howard's mind, into his dreams to burn his soul. "It's all your fault."

"Run away!"

"Dad… dad! We have to get out of here!"

"Run away, you fool!"

"Dad, wake up!"

Howard's eyes flew open. Though the darkness blinded him, he immediately knew the voice trying to wake him.

"Dad, wake up!"

Howard bolted up to find his son standing by the bed next to him.

"Benny? What… ?"

"Dad, we're leaving. Get up. We're getting out of here."

"Leaving? Leaving — where?"

"We're all getting out of here. Come on. You have to get up! Everybody's waiting for us."

Howard was on his feet. "But the guards…"

"Come on, dad, we have to get out of here." Benny was heading for the door to the hallway. He stopped to listen at the panel as he motioned his father to follow. Howard was by his side again.

"Benny, how are we going to do this?"

"Shhh!" Benny quickly replied, moving a finger to his lips as he opened the door. "Robert has it all figured out."

They found Bezuhov sitting in his wheelchair on the other side and Howard and Benny gasped together. The old man slowly stood and angrily pushed his chair behind him, two of his guards were standing to his left and right.

"Hello, Benny," Bezuhov said. The old man looked years younger than the night before, taller, stronger, and much more menacing.

"I warned you what would happen if you or your friends tried to escape." He looked at the guard to his right and gave a quick nod. The guard immediately pulled out a pistol, pointed, and shot Benny in the forehead. The back of the boy's head exploded into Howard's chest behind him before collapsing straight down to the floor at his feet.

"Benny!" Howard screamed, falling to the floor to grab his son. "Benny! Oh, my God! My God, my God!" Howard rolled his son onto his back to find his son's eyes still open; a look of shock frozen in time.

"Benny!"

One of the guards shoved Howard to the side with his boot and pointed his pistol down at the boy again.

"No!"

BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM

"Benny!"

Howard bolted upright in his bed once more. He looked around to find his room empty: there were no guards and no blood. His eyes searched the floor looking for his son's body, but he wasn't there. Howard jumped to his feet, tripped and fell to the floor. He struggled in the shadows to stand again before reaching over to flip on the light. He began searching around the room in a horrified panic. Nothing was disturbed; nothing was out of place… it had all been a dream, a terrible nightmare. As his senses slowly began to return, Howard moved back to the bed and sat on its edge. His head dropped into his hands and he began to sob. This was his fault, all of this… his doing.

Sally Carmichael was brave throughout her ordeal, but Howard knew the state in which Ethan had found her the night before was only the beginning of what would be her ultimate destruction. Day after day, the other doctors in Bezuhov's employ would meet in private with the old man to discuss their next steps, and Kari's uncle was always left horrified by the extent and invasion of their decisions. So much so that he came to believe the jackals in black could not have been doctors at all. They were demons in training, all of them; a pack of wild dogs who would sacrifice anybody for one man's continued, albeit feeble, existence.

All the while, and despite their invasions, Sally continued her fast progression into a more youthful version of her old self. Now perhaps in her early thirties, the woman remained beautiful even as the abuses by the other doctors increased. Howard tried his best to deliver what little comfort he could through her trials, but the jackals seemed desperate to move quickly, setting aside the most basic necessities of pain management and care for the woman as a person. Howard came to believe this meant the old man was nearing the end of his trails as well.

Over the next several days, Howard felt abandoned to his thoughts. Although he had never been an overly religious man, he found himself fearful of God. More than that, he found something in himself he didn't really know existed: When everything was put before him, when the most important things in his life were stacked up one next to the other, he knew beyond any doubt he could sacrifice himself for his son, for Kari, and any of the others. It took him a while to finally come to this revelation, but once it happened, he felt a wave of calm roll over his soul. At last he understood what might redeem him in the eyes of God and his family and he began to search for the ways he might help the others to escape.

He started looking for things he might use to attack the guards and it was then that he realized just how much was actually available to him. As the tests on Sally became more intrusive, his choices for armament began to widen. Hippocrates aside, for it didn't seem to apply to jackals anyway, there were blunt objects in which he could smash the skull of an unsuspecting guard and stainless steel objects with razor-like edges. There were large needles and all manner of drugs at his disposal, and there were electronics too. High voltage instruments that, when implemented the wrong way, could debilitate and even kill.

Although it might have increased their chances for success, Howard didn't tell anybody about his plans for their escape. While he understood all too well how sacrificing himself might not guarantee their success, he also didn't trust his courage to act when necessary as part of a larger plan. Finally, and after a week of careful preparation, Howard decided to leave the timetable for his next action to God. He would pray and look for a sign from heaven, thinking he would recognize the moment when it was finally put upon him. Unfortunately, it wasn't God that would move him to act, but the devil himself. The accuser with laughing red eyes would be the first to pull that trigger.

The next day and Robert Coleman was worried. As he sat next to Kari eating his lunch, he could see the nervousness in Ethan and Benny across the table. The detective glanced over at Kari who looked worse than the other two. She sat picking at her food with little ambition to eat. He wanted to yell at them, _"Come on, people… let's not announce our ambitions to the guards and tell them we're about to move against them!"_

Only Tiago seemed normal as he played on the carpet with the puppy in the center of the room. Of course the boy had no idea what was about to happen and, luckily, the three guards left to watch over them seemed more interested in the boy and his dog than the unusual behavior of the others sitting at the dining room table. Robert finally leaned over.

"Kari, try and eat something."

She glared up at him with a look of surprise and then softened as she looked over at the others. She could see Ethan and Benny clutching their utensils tight. Her cousin was even sweating and looked red in the face.

Their plan was fairly straightforward and required one simple trigger for its execution. When two of the guards left with Sally and Tiago, and when the hostages recognized something else that might give them a clear advantage, they would act. That was the plan – as simplistic as it was dangerous.

They waited for days for something to push them onward and now it had happened, and it this reality that was making them all very nervous as they ate their lunch together. They knew the time was finally upon them.

As they had done since the very beginning, two of the guards escorted Sally to the lab, but for some unexplained reason they left Tiago behind. This had never happened before and it meant that if the rest of the hostages decided to make their move, they could take the boy with them rather than leaving him behind with Sally. In addition, one of the four remaining guards had also left the room, leaving just three to watch over the entire group. The opportunity to act was immediately recognized by every one of the hostages, and with a reassuring nod from Robert they knew some or maybe all of them could be dead in the next few minutes.

One by one, they rose from the table and moved to their planned positions within the room as the guards, standing in a small group near the hallway, passed the time watching the boy and his dog. Kari began to stretch and then started walking the perimeter of the room as if to begin her afternoon exercise. She jogged in place for a while and then followed the outside wall around the room. As the guards turned their attention to watch her, Ethan began to move the furniture away from the walls in much the same way he had done over the last week.

"Thank you, Ethan," Kari said as she jogged past him.

"No problem," Ethan replied. His voice sounded nervous, almost hoarse with anticipation.

Robert watched the plan unfolding before him as he picked up the newspaper and coolly moved to the center of the room nearest the guards to read under the light on the adjacent table. He leaned back against the couch, seemingly to stay out of Kari's way as she increased her pace around the room, and the guards grinned with diverted interest as they watched Kari work up a sweat. Their smiles widened as she passed by them and especially when she gave a timid smile to whisper, "Excuse me." Once again, and like she had done so many times in the days leading up to that moment, Kari had captured their full attention. They didn't notice Benny picking up his glass from the table and casually moving with interpretation toward them.

As Kari watched Benny move into position near the guards, she saw Robert give her a nod. This was it, now was the time to act. She said a small prayer as she rounded the edge of the couch and her focus turned to the guards once more. She looked down at their feet and as she moved past them and then tripped and tumbled to the floor with a heavy crash.

"Что трахание!" one of the guards yelped and the three of them moved forward to help her. "Вы травмированы?"

At once, Benny moved in as Robert grabbed the metal lamp from the table and smashed it onto the head of one of the guards. Benny hit a second guard on the head with the glass, which shattered instantly. The teenager started groping at the man's rifle as Kari rolled over on the floor, reached up to grab the guard bending over to help her, and kicked him hard in the groin.

"Ahh! Вы гребаная сука!" the guard yelled out angrily and in pain as he fell on top of her. Ethan moved in to stomp down on the yelling guard's head and then turned to kick at the one Benny was wrestling on the floor. Robert was trying to untangle the rifle strap on the guard who already looked unconscious.

Suddenly, there was a blast of automatic gunfire and Robert, Benny and Ethan turned to find the missing fourth guard had returned to the room and was spraying bullets over their heads. They dove to the floor as the guard reached over to hit the panic button near the entranceway and a siren began to wail. Robert finally wrestled the rifle away from the unconscious man, but as he turned to face the guard he found the barrel of a rifle two inches from his face.

"Остановитесь!" the guard screamed at him, "или я буду дуть, ваше траханье препятствуют, Вы собака!"

Robert hesitated and the guard wheeled the butt end of the rifle around and hit him on the side of the face. He then pointed his rifle at Ethan. "выйдите из него!"

Ethan raised his hands and then moved away from the guard Kari had kicked.

"Вы также, сука, движение!" the guard yelled down at Kari jerking the barrel of his rifle at her. She reluctantly released the second guard and rolled away. She knew they were all doomed.

Kari's guard slowly got to his feet still holding his groin and then straightened to take a deep breath. He looked down angrily at Kari on the floor.

"Вы гребаная шлюха, я собираюсь убивать Вас!" he yelled, before reaching out to kick Kari hard in the side of the ribs. The blow sent her rolling against the wall. The man followed and then began to stomp down on her. "траханье, гребаная сука!"

Benny had his back to the wall and holding the sides of his head in terror. Tiago was clutching his puppy under the dining room table as the siren continued to blare. The battle was over; the hostages had lost the fight.

The guard beating Kari was now straddling her waist and slapping her face hard. Kari was screaming in pain as Robert lay unconscious a few feet away.

""Остановитесь!" yelled a voice across the room.

Bezuhov had entered the room escorted by three more guards. By the time Ethan and Benny realized who was yelling, the old man was already moving his oxygen mask over to cover his face again. It would seem even the effort to yell was too much for him. He looked furious.

Finally, the guard hitting Kari stopped and then stood. He spat down on her and kicked her again as she continued to cry. The second guard threw Ethan and Benny face down to the floor next to her, the barrel of his rifle pressing into the back of Ethan's neck as the three other guards moved quickly to secure the room. They checked the unconscious guard, picked him up, and then carried him into the hallway passed the old man.

"Получите его вниз к лаборатории!" ("Get him down to the lab!") Bezuhov commanded them. "И верните женщину!" ("And bring the woman back!") "Остановите тот шум!" ("Stop that noise!")

The siren finally stopped as Robert groaned and then rolled over to look up. He could see Kari was crying against the wall and began crawling toward her, but another guard angrily stomped a boot down on the back of his neck to stop him.

The old man's chair clicked and moved forward.

"Detective Coleman, was this your doing?" the old man asked in a menacing tone. The boot on Robert's neck was raised up and he was shoved onto his back. He looked up at Bezuhov, trying to clear out the fog flooding his aching skull.

"Yes," he groaned knowingly, "it was all my idea."

The old man's face twitched. "Humph, a hero to the very end. Impressive," he replied shrewdly. He looked at the other hostages lying on the floor around him and then back down at Robert. "I told you the punishment for trying to escape would be hash, did I not?"

Robert tried to get up and another guard immediately moved toward him in response. The old man waved him off. Robert rose to his knees, looked around at the state of his friends and then stood.

"Don't take it out on them. I was the one who talked them into doing it. If you're going to kill somebody, it should be me."

"Robert, no!" Kari cried out. "Don't!"

Robert looked at Kari. He tried to smile, to assure her he knew what he was doing. He looked back at Bezuhov again and shrugged. "They wouldn't have done it without my urging them on. I should be the one to pay the price."

The old man's expression darkened. "We will discuss our options soon enough." He gave a signal to one of his guards and then pointed to Tiago still hiding under the dining room table.

The guard immediately moved toward the boy. "Встаньте!" he barked with a jerk of his rifle.

Tiago slowly emerged from his hiding place still clutching the puppy as if to protect him from the mêlée just witnessed. He was immediately pushed toward the others who were then forced on their feet. Kari was crying and her face was already beginning to bruise badly, but she opened her arms to Tiago as he joined the group.

Two more guards entered the room escorting Sally and Doctor Howard. The two of them looked terrified.

"What's happened? A guard was brought to the lab with a head injury." Howard looked at Benny. "Has anybody else been hurt?"

Benny shyly pointed to Kari and Howard's eyes widened in shock.

"Oh, my God!" Howard came forward quickly to inspect his niece's injuries. "What happened to you?"

"They tried to escape, doctor. That's what happened," Bezuhov replied matter-of-factly. "It would seem that despite all my warnings, they have failed to take me seriously and I am at a loss to understand why."

Howard tried to move Kari to the couch, but one of the guards stopped him.

"Not so fast, doctor. I must first find a way to instill a higher level of respect due my warnings." The old man turned in his chair to look back at Sally. "Mrs. Carmichael, will you join your friends, please?" Sally came forward as the guards lined them side by side with their backs against the wall.

Howard was immediately terrified for what might happen next. He knew Sally and the boy were safe, but that left his son and Kari as possible targets for the old man's wrath. He took a step forward.

"Please, Mr. Bezuhov, don't hurt them. Surely you wouldn't. You could lock them in their rooms. I think that should suffice. Please, I beg you. Don't…"

"Doctor, you're not hearing me. And it angers me to know my words are not taken seriously."

"Please…" Howard cupped his hands together and dropped to his knees. "Please, don't hurt them."

Bezuhov looked unsympathetic. "Doctor, you should have been on your knees and begging them not to disobey me in the first place. Did you know about this foolishness? Were you a participant in this action against my will?"

Howard thought about it and then his emotions seemed to harden. "Yes, I did." The doctor quickly got to his feet. "Yes, in fact I encouraged them to act. I was the one who disobeyed you. It was me." Howard's mind was working fast, but he could already see Bezuhov didn't believe him. "I told them to do it," he paused and then added, "you pig!"

The room was deadly sill and everybody held their breath in anticipation of Bezuhov's response. His face was blank, almost plastic, which only added to the tension filling the room. Benny swallowed hard; it would have been better to know the old man was angry than to guess at what would happen next, but the devil only smiled.

"Doctor Howard, you seem to forget: I know you better than you know yourself." He gave a wave to one of his guards and Howard was pushed backward against the wall with the others.

"Somebody must pay for this action against my will." He rolled forward a few feet and then stopped again. "I told you before that I had a very difficult decision to make," he explained. "And as uncharacteristic to my nature as it was at the time, I decided to be compassionate even when I knew what had to me done. Now… you force my hand with this… this idiocy." The Russian seemed troubled once again by his inner thoughts.

"There is still some work to be done in our studies of the boy and Mrs. Carmichael, but there is one critical test that requires my sacrificing one of you."

Howard frowned. "But… I don't understand. We haven't preformed any tests on anybody but Tiago and Sally. I can't see what can be learned of their condition by hurting someone else." He looked around at the other hostages. "We haven't discussed _anything_ that would make something like that necessary."

Bezuhov smiled again. "You are correct, doctor. And let me set your mind at ease by telling your friends that I did not share the reasons for my needs with you in any way. Your conscious is clear in this matter." The old man looked at the ceiling once more, clearly reluctant about his next decision. He heaved remorsefully.

"Against my better judgment, I had decided not to kill one of you as a necessary test though I knew that decision could very well put my own life in jeopardy." He looked at them again. "But now… you force my hand. A lesson needs to be reinforced."

He looked at one of the guards and grudgingly nodded. The guard handed his rifle to the guard next to him and then stepped forward. With one quick motion he unsheathed a very large knife.

"No! Please, don't do this!" Howard pleaded. He tried to come forward but another guard pushed him back. "Please don't."

The guard with the knife stepped up to the line as two other guards took positions to his left and right. He stopped to look at Howard, smiled, and then stepped in front of Benny next to him.

"Please, don't." Howard whispered.

Benny's eyes were closed tight, his lips moving to the words of the only prayer he could remember. "Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

Howard stepped in to protect his son, but one of the guards pulled him back. The guard stepped to the side again and quickly passed Sally to Ethan.

Sally quickly moved to protest. "If you hurt Ethan, I'll… I'll kill myself. I'll find a way. I swear it!"

The old man frowned. "Well, we can't have that now, can we?"

The guard stepped to the side again and in front of Robert.

"The logical choice," Bezuhov commented.

Robert's expression hardened at the smiling guard. "Take your best shot, mother fucker!" he said angrily and he spat in the guard's face.

The guard didn't even flinch. Robert could tell he was enjoying the moment too much.

"But no," the old man intervened, and the guard moved passed Tiago before turning to face Kari.

"You have been a distraction to my men far too long, Miss Dietz." The guard looked over at Robert and smiled, wiped the spit from his face, and then raised the knife.

"Oh my God – no!" Howard yelled as Robert tried to move forward. Another guard kneed the detective in the stomach. "No – don't do it!"

Kari's eyes widened. In her heart she never truly believed it would be her, that she would be the one chosen to die. She screamed and covered her face as the knife flashed. The guard spun to his right, turning as he crouched down, and plunged the knife into the center little Tiago's chest.

The crack of bone and tearing flesh silenced Kari almost immediately. The room was quiet as the boy, his eyes wide in shock, began to gurgle and hiss the most dreadful sounds. Nobody breathed; nobody made a sound as the boy, who had lived as a man more than seventy years, slumped forward and then abruptly stopped against the handle of the knife. He was impaled to the wall behind him.

It was Kari who reacted first. She let out a scream that should have torn her throat open and still it seemed as nothing to what had just happened. She screamed and screamed and screamed, taking deep breaths between her shrieks as she covered her face and crumbled to the floor in horror. Howard came forward quickly as the other guards moved away, but he knew before he took his first step that it was already too late – another analytical response to slaughter.

Sally fell into Ethan's arms and howled uncontrollably as he turned them both away.

Robert, still winded, rolled over terrified and expecting to see Kari spewing blood all over the room. He frowned when he saw Tiago with the knife buried to the hilt in his chest. He slowly got to his knees and crawled over to Kari who was crying uncontrollably. As he reached out to sooth her, but she threw herself back and screamed again. Robert finally grabbed her and pulled her to him, trying to the best of his ability to calm her… but he could not. What could he say? What could anybody possibly say that would explain the madness? Howard bent down and gently put his hand on Kari's head. She finally looked up, her face bright red and locked in pain. She tried to kick away, but her uncle moved passed Robert to hold her tight.

Robert looked up from the floor and to the old man sitting in the chair. He tried to speak, but found he could not. He looked up at Tiago again. The boy's face looked unnaturally white against his black hair and silent expression. Robert looked at Bezuhov again with tears welling in his eyes.

"Why?"

The old man shrugged. "Because you forced me to… and because he still had something I needed."

"Then why would you kill him?" Robert whispered.

Bezuhov thought for a moment, not in a way that intimated he was struggling with what had been done, but suggesting instead his response might be difficult to explain.

"Young Tiago has been in my company a few months longer than the rest of you. Time enough to get most of what I wanted from him except, of course, for those comparative tests we completed on Mrs. Carmichael. Still, in all our struggles to learn his secrets there was one thing missing in our analysis. One crucial thing I needed to know."

Robert looked at him and frowned.

"You see, detective, I wanted to know what would happen to Tiago or Sally if their life were to end suddenly, while in the middle of their transformation."

The old man looked at the boy still pinned to the wall and then motioned with a wave to have his body removed. As the guards came forward, Bezuhov moved his mask back over his face to breathe deep. The knife was removed unceremoniously from Tiago's chest and his body crumbled to the floor. Kari screamed again. One of the guards flipped the body over with his foot and then started to reach down.

"Осторожный, пожалуйста. Он все еще имеет много, чтобы учиться из него," ("Careful, please. He still have much to learn from him,") Bezuhov warned them almost caringly.

The guard looked back, nodded, and then placed Tiago's hands across his chest and then lifted him gently into his arms.

"Возьмите его к лаборатории." ("Take him to the lab.")

"So you killed him as part of another experiment?" Robert grumbled.

"No, Detective Coleman. It was you who killed him. I told you before if you tried to escape the price would be dire. You chose to ignore my warnings. Thus, you saw the consequences of that decision."

"But you said yourself you were going to kill him anyway," Robert argued back.

"No, I said I wanted to know what would happen if he or Sally was to die unexpectedly, but I also admitted I was struggling with that decision. I was referring to my decision to choose between the boy and Mrs. Carmichael."

Sally looked up from Ethan's arms and frowned. "You're a madman. You should have killed me and not a little boy."

The old man seemed amused by her. "Mrs. Carmichael… you and I both know Tiago wasn't a little boy at all. He lived a culturally rich and very full life before dying in a hospital bed in Brazil — in much the same way as you. In his case, he was surrounded by a loving family, including fifteen grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. And just like you, he came back; he died and was alive again. His life ended, but he was reborn, utilizing this wonderful gift of renewal."

Sally looked angry. "It's not a gift at all. It's a curse!"

"A curse, you say? Why would it be a curse to continue living, and better still… to be young again? How is this meant to be a curse?"

"Because this is not what God promised us!"

Bezuhov frowned. "But it _could_ be. Didn't God say we should have eternal life and isn't more likely that's what you have now?"

"No!" Sally fumed. "Tiago proves you're wrong. He's dead!"

"For the moment, it would seem that is the case."

Sally looked shocked and then angry. "YOU JUST KILLED HIM!"

"Yes, yes — he has died… again. But how sure are you that he won't return once more? He's done it before, why not again?"

Sally couldn't answer.

"Ah… you finally see it now, don't you? And thus, the question that needed an answer. Tiago will be monitored very closely over the next few days to see if his present condition might reverse itself."

"And what if he doesn't come back," Sally yelled at him, "what then?"

"Then I shall have my answer anyway and your lesson will have been learned."

Howard stepped forward. "This is madness. Why wasn't I consulted about this decision? I would have…"

The old man turned in his chair to face him. "Because you would not have allowed it, doctor." Howard was about to reply, but Bezuhov cut him off. "And because I had decided against killing the boy anyway. As I said, the difficult decision I had to make was choosing between Tiago and Mrs. Carmichael for this final test, but as you already know Mrs. Carmichael's leukocyte antigen tissue type is a closer to match to my own. Although not a perfect match, her immune system would be a better choice if, for example, a bone marrow transplant would become necessary for me to gain the gifts she possesses. Thus, my answers would have to come from Tiago."

He looked at Robert again and smiled. "Imagine my surprise when I came to realize that I didn't want to do it? That I had somehow grown attached to the boy in a way that was completely unexpected. I thought I knew myself well, but, as I said earlier, I actually put my future into jeopardy by setting my personal needs aside to keep the boy."

His face suddenly looked angry. "But then you had to pull this stunt, didn't you? And because of it I was faced with another difficult decision — which one of you should die for disobeying me? As you can plainly see, the choice was obvious. You would learn your lesson and I would have my answer."

Robert smirked. "You egotistical son of a bitch. You would have eventually killed the boy to get your answer anyway, and you know it. You would do anything to get what you want. Just like the day you had Ethan beaten to keep Sally in the hospital."

Sally looked surprised. "That was you who did that? You hurt Ethan?"

The old man smiled. "My dear lady… a few broken bones are nothing compared to kidnapping. Why would you doubt my interests? Your stubbornness and refusals at the hospital required my intervention. Even after Mr. Dodge healed you remained obstinate, which eventually lead to my brining you here."

"And Andrew Johnson? Why was it necessary to kill him?" Robert fumed. This time Kari looked surprised.

"Are you suddenly my priest, Detective Coleman? Am I required now to make a full confession of all my nasty deeds? I assure you the list of sins you seek is long and terrifying and it's been more than ninety years since my last visit to the confessional. I don't think we have that kind of time."

Robert's stare darkened.

"Very well: Mr. Johnson was sending reports about Mrs. Carmichael's case to the local newspapers for money. It was drawing too much attention to her, which she saw firsthand outside Mr. Dodge's flat some months ago. I was forced to put a stop to it."

Kari started to cry again as Howard stepped forward. "And what about John Wetzler? Was the car accident that took his life murder too?"

Bezuhov looked bemused. "Your predecessor at the University only made one fatal mistake that I could not forgive of him, doctor. He did not properly negotiate that turn in the foothills on his way home from work. Other than being on the phone with me at the time, I had nothing to do with his untimely demise. Although it must be said I _was_ beginning to worry about him. After a time, he began to show some of the insufferable traits I see in you now." The old man smiled again. "He is beginning to formulate a conscious."

Howard's eyes widened.

"I was very fortunate to have you to take his place so quickly."

Sally fell into Ethan's arms again. "You're a monster!"

The old man turned in his chair and headed for the hallway. "Since Detective Coleman is unable to absolve me of my sins, we will continue our work. I'm sure Doctor Howard will keep all of you informed if the boy shows any signs of recovering."

Sally stepped forward. "This is not God's plan for us. This is not _life eternal_ as he promised it!"

Bezuhov slowed and then turned his head to answer. "We shall see."

196


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22d05

Chapter 22 (Draft 05)

The street outside Sally's apartment was quiet, but the rain was heavy due to an unexpected storm. The lamp posts lining the walk moved in unison with the rhythm of the wind, their shadows ebbing and flowing back and forth across on the wet street under an invisible moon. A car slowly moved down the street and then stopped next to an empty slot outside of Sally's front window. The Chevy thumped into reverse and then quickly fell into place on the first try. The door opened just as a bolt of lightning flashed overhead and the driver inside ducked in response. He got out, slammed the door, and heard the lock click as he jogged across the street toward his front door. A woman was standing in the opening, waving him in under a dimly lit porch.

"Oh, I was about to call you," she said, looking relieved. "The weather is really turning bad."

The man ran up the short walk, up the steps, and smiled as he kissed his wife.

"Sorry, I should have called but it's both hands on the wheel tonight," he said, looking up at the black sky.

He began removing his wet coat to the sound of screeching tires behind him. The two on the porch looked down a see a black police van sliding to a stop in front of their house. Two more police cars halted, their flashing lights throwing a palette of strange colors up and down the wet street. The doors on the van swung open and six men in black uniforms and helmets jumped out. One of the men stopped when he saw the couple standing on their porch.

"Police department — please go back inside," he said, waving them back animatedly as the other members of the Seattle SWAT team took up positions behind several parked cars. They had rifles pointed at the apartment house across the street. The neighbors obeyed without question, quickly darting inside their home and closing the door. A few seconds later they could be seen peering out the window.

"Unit-one is in position. Unit-two copy?" said one of the officers on his radio.

"Copy that-one. Unit-two is in the ally. The back is covered; we are in position-one."

"Roger that-two. We're going in!" The officer signaled his men and they all ran forward toward the apartment's entranceway. They opened the door and quickly moved inside.

"Seattle Police Department — we have a warrant!"

There was the unmistakable sound of another door being smashed and the neighbors could see several flashing lights inside the apartment nearest the street.

Three minutes later, one of the men emerged from the apartment and waved to the other police officers outside. "All clear! We're calling in a 10-49, 55."

Two plain clothed police officers stood and holstered their guns. One of them yelled back, "Is it the woman?"

A few minutes later, the other officers came out of the building looking disappointed as they shouldered their rifles. One of them stopped in front of the two detectives. "Looks like an old man. Found him wrapped up in some garbage bags in the tub, bullet to the forehead. Must have been a while ago 'cause it's really starting to stink in there."

"Any sign of the woman…" the detective looked at his notepad, "this… ah… Sally Carmichael?"

"Nope, only the DB in the tub."

"Okay. Thanks, Steve. Good work."

Ben Wright, Captain of Detectives in the Seattle Police Department, looked around and then ambled up the sloping walk toward the building. He was putting on some latex gloved as he entered the apartment to find a number of other officers and two detectives looking around Sally's apartment.

"Why's it so cold in here?"

He made his way to the kitchen and saw one of his men leaning over the stove to look at the spice rack hanging on the wall.

"Whatcha got, Mack?"

The man turned and smiled. "My grandmother has a rooster set exactly like this one."

The captain rolled his eyes. "Whatdaya got for me, Mack?"

The detective turned around and looked at his notes. "Other than the dead guy in the tub?"

"Come on, Mack, I'm not in the mood."

"Yeah, okay. So far we got zip. Looks like somebody went through the old lady's things, all her dresser draws were open and half the clothes removed. Her medicine cabinet in the bathroom was empty too. There was a list of prescriptions taped to the wall, but we can't find anything in the apartment… looks like they took all of it."

"Think it might be the local baller?"

"Doubt it. They'd've cleaned the place out, but they only took the clothes and scripts and left everything else."

"Including a dead guy in the tub."

"Yeah, and that too."

"Do we know who he is yet?"

"Found his wallet in his back pocket. Looks like a neighbor. Lives in the apartment downstairs. Name is… ah… George… Hirch. We're running his name now. Probably heard them looting the place while the old lady was away and surprised them. Strange they took the time to wrap him up though."

The captain walked into the back of the apartment and into the bathroom. He looked down into the tub. Mr. Hirch's body was bagged and lying in a fetal position under the water. Another detective was leaning over to inspect him.

"Whatdaya think?" the captain asked him, arching over to take a closer look.

The detective looked up at him. "Won't know until the M.E. gets here, but I'd say he's been here for a couple of weeks. Put one in his forehead in the bedroom, wrapped him up in garbage bags, and then weighed the body down after the tub was filled with water. Looks like they used a bottle of Pine-Sol from under the sink to keep the smell down. I'd say at least a couple of weeks."

"Why didn't anybody call it in? The stink is pretty bad."

"They turned the air conditioner on full before they left," another detective answered. "The apartment sits next to the street. The woman in the apartment on the other side is almost deaf, and the guy downstairs is here in the tub. There's nobody upstairs in the three apartments above her. They're all vacant."

The captain heaved. "Okay, thanks. Make sure they check the drain and the toilet too, will you? Handles on the drawers and cabinets?"

The captain returned to the kitchen and found an old book sitting on the table. "What's this?"

Mack looked over. "Some chick-book thing the old lady must have been reading. I was gonna make a call over to the local library to see when she checked it out. Maybe get a timeline on her."

The captain opened the front cover and turned a few pages. Ja_cob's Room_ by Virginia Woolf. "I don't think she got this out of the library."

"Yeah, why's that?"

"Looks like a first edition — it's dated 1922."

The other detective suddenly looked interested. "You think it might be worth something?"

The captain turned the book over to look at the back. "Maybe… twenty grand."

"You're shitin' me?"

The captained looked over at him and grinned. "Probably more." A piece of paper fell to the floor.

"What's that?"

The captain bent over to pick it up. "Looks like a note."

Sally, I look forward to your thoughts on Adeline's progression into this experimental form and how it compares to her earlier writings. Ethan.

"Seems she had a book-buddy," the captain said, showing him the note.

"Probably the same Ethan Dodge from the hospital," Mack replied. "He owns a bookstore around the corner. The girl who works there told us she hasn't seen him for two weeks. She assumed he was on another business trip."

Mack looked over. "Twenty big ones, huh? Maybe I'll take up chick-books as a hobby." He smiled at the captain who handed him the book.

"You'd have to learn how to read first, you moron. Bag it."

An hour later, the captain was standing in the living room with three other men in suits.

"Captain Wright, the Bureau is all over me on this thing. We've got one agent dead and another missing, and the last time they were seen alive was when they were with your man at the hospital."

"Hey, our guy is missing too." Mack replied heatedly. "Robert Coleman hasn't been seen since he was with your guys,"

"What was Coleman working on at the hospital?"

"As far as we know he was just visiting a friend, although he did take a call a few months back about a burglary in this very same apartment. It may or may not be related, we don't know." Wright answered. "Why was the FBI at the hospital?"

The men in suits looked at each other and then back at the captain. "As far as we know, they shouldn't have been there. They were supposed to be working another case. Special Agent Koslov's last report didn't say anything about the hospital or your guy."

"But we know they were there, so something isn't right on your side."

The FBI agent looked frustrated. "Let's start over with what we do know."

The captain heaved. "Detective Coleman is missing, FBI Agent Ramirez is dead, Koslov is missing. Coleman's girlfriend is also missing and her apartment looks much the same as this place — some of her clothes and bags were taken. Now we find the woman they were seeing at the hospital is missing too and there's a dead body in her tub. Her book-buddy Ethan Dodge might be missing as well. It would seem anybody connected to his Sally Carmichael is either missing or dead. Even her doctor…" the captain looked at his detective, "What was his name again?"

"Doctor Gladwin Howard," Mack replied. "We already know he wasn't a permanent resident at Mercy Center; he was brought in for a consult by the hospital staff about Mrs. Carmichael's case."

The FBI agent nodded. "Yeah, we have a separate case on Howard as well."

The captain frowned. "What case?"

The agent looked at one of his men and nodded, "Go ahead."

"We're working another case in Rochester. Seems Howard's son was kidnapped off the Eastman University campus some months back. We haven't been able to locate him and there haven't been any ransom demands yet."

"And now the father is gone too?" Mack replied. "What the hell is going on here?"

The agent paused. "We heard this Carmichael woman was something of a local celebrity. What's that about?"

The captain shrugged. "Apparently she has some kind of strange condition that made her look younger. There's already been a retraction in the local paper saying the whole thing was a hoax."

"So where does that leave us?"

The body of Mr. Hirch was wheeled passed them and they all turned away from the smell.

"Right back where we started, I'm afraid."

The days following Tiago's murder were some of the most difficult for the hostages. Certainly the horror of the act was traumatic enough, but their failure to escape left them with very few options other than to accept whatever fate awaited them. To Robert, the dreadful consequences of their action only validated his belief that all of them would eventually be killed. His mind was swimming in Tiago's blood, together with the dreadful anxiety that came with knowing he had failed Kari and his friends. Their future was just a death sentence waiting to be carried out.

To make matters worse, their attempt to escape had left the remaining guards enraged. Bezuhov's punishments were indeed great; they had all witnessed this fact first hand. This reality was validated again when two of the guards watching over them that day disappeared entirely, and Robert was left only to imagine what manner of death they were forced to endure.

This left the remaining guards seething with anger toward the hostages. They were verbally and physically abusive, determined never to allow even the remote possibility of the hostages trying something more. Even while eating at the dining room table, no more than two of them were allowed to share a whispered conversation together.

A few days later, Doctor Howard formally reported to them that Tiago never did recover from his so-called _second death_. The boy was monitored in the lab around the clock, but after the fourth day it was clear: The boy who was a man was finally living his life in heaven equal to Sally's expectations and God's promise.

There was more terrible news: Howard also told them that Tiago's puppy had died as well. Not satisfied with just the knowledge gained from Tiago's death, apparently Bezuhov wanted to see the results of a slow kill, and it would seem the dog was used to deliver those answers as well. Kari's uncle would not describe the manner of torture that resulted in the puppy's death and the hostages didn't ask. It was all too much to bear, and over the next two days their lives were slowly transformed into something resembling a never ending wake.

The only positive turn in the endless days that followed was that Sally was granted something of a reprieve from the experiments done to her person as they monitoring Tiago and the dog. It would seem even a man as heartless and cruel as Bezuhov didn't want Sally to endure her given trials with dead bodies lying around her. Her parole, however, was short-lived. On the day following the puppy's death, Sally was escorted downstairs again and into the hands of the jackals to continue her ordeal.

Sally was led down to the lab by one of the guards where she was asked to lie on an examination table in preparation for another series of tests. Howard seemed remorseful as he eyed the woman. He couldn't help noticing how beautiful she was both in spirit and body. He leaned over to her.

"How are you feeling today, Sally?"

She glared back at him. "I'm just handy, doctor," she replied, clearly annoyed. She looked over at the only other doctor in the room with them, "I guess I should be looking forward to my slow and painful death."

"There won't be any pain today," Howard replied knowingly. "I guarantee it."

She looked at him and frowned. It wasn't what he said, but how he had said it. His eyes peering over his surgical mask were not looking at her but at the other doctor in black. She could see he was already sweating. Sally reached up to take Howard's hand and he was suddenly surprised by her gentleness.

"Doctor Howard, I want you to know that I don't blame you for any of this."

He looked down at her and could plainly see she was afraid. His eyes started to fill with tears. "My dear, dear lady, how could you not? All of this _is_ my fault. I knew what Bezuhov was the first night I met him and still… here I am."

Sally tried to smile. "I don't believe that, doctor. How could you have possibly known they would take your son and compel you to do these things? No, doctor, like the rest of us… you're a prisoner too."

The man gripped her hand tight, "I hope God is as forgiving as you, Mrs. Carmichael."

"I know he is, you'll see."

He smiled under his mask. "I hope you're right, madam. I pray each and every day that you're right." Howard looked back at the other doctor who was preparing a number of syringes and Sally could see his wrath forming under his brow. She squeezed his hand tight and he looked down at her again.

"No," she whispered. "Don't."

His eyes softened. "Don't worry, Mrs. Carmichael, I'm well-prepared today and I'm going to make sure you get everything you need toward your comfort," he replied in a much louder voice. She suddenly looked terrified.

Howard let go of her hand and, as Sally tried to reach out to stop him, he walked around the table behind the other doctor. She quickly looked back at the armed guard who was busy watching a newly installed screen monitoring the other hostages in the dining room.

Howard put on some rubber gloves and then took hold of a tool placed under the table. He tapped the other doctor on the shoulder. "Here, can you hold this for me?"

The doctor looked down and then questioningly reached out. There was a loud pop, a flash of blue light, and the doctor in black started to shake and jerk violently.

Howard quickly backed away, "Oh my God!" he yelled out, looking now at the armed guard. Howard grabbed the other doctor and then suddenly began to thrash around as well. The guard rushed forward, hesitated, as if trying to decide what to do, and then shoved the two men violently to the floor. There was another loud pop, a crash of equipment, and then the two men were finally still. The guard hesitated again and then came forward once more. He slapped Howard on the leg and as he leaned over to check his pulse, Howard rose up to stab him in the side of the neck with a thick needle and syringe. The man jerked back holding his throat in shock. He turned and then stumbled backward. He tried to raise his rifle and then toppled over a set of drawers with a deafening crash.

Sally was sitting upright on the table, completely dumbstruck at what she had just witnessed. Howard was on his feet again. He ripped off the mask, tapped the unconscious guard several times with his foot, and then rushed forward to inspect the monitor's screen. He then turned to her.

"Excellent! No alarms. So far, so good!"

"Doctor Howard — what have you done? They're going to kill you for this!" Sally looked around, half expecting another army of guards to storm into the room. Howard was stripping off his surgical gown.

"You're probably right, but I'm getting you out of here right now! Come on." He grabbed a zipped bag from under the table and then moved to the guard. He stripped him of his pistol and threw it into the bag and then took the man's rifle. He then reached over to grab Sally by the arm. His strength surprised her.

"No! You can't… they'll kill the others too. We can't do this."

Howard looked at her and frowned. "I said you're leaving right now, and you're taking my son and the rest with you. Come on." He pulled her toward the door but she pulled back. He looked back at her again. "Right now, I said!" She looked down at the floor behind them and at the two men lying there unconscious. She finally nodded; it was too late anyway.

Howard slowly cracked the door to look out. The hallway was clear. He opened the door and quickly walked down the corridor, pulling Sally by the hand behind him.

He stopped at another closed door and then handed her the bag. "Hold this," he whispered softly, placing a finger to his lips to quiet her.

She took the bag as he unzipped its flap. He removed a thin, surgical hammer within and then turned toward the door once more. She grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him, but he only shook his head and warned her again to be quiet. He grimaced at the sound as the latch clicked. As the door was slowly opened, he could see the back of another guard sitting in a chair and watching a number of screens set in front of him. Howard quickly moved in, raised the hammer, and smashed the man in the back of the head. Sally gasped.

Howard rolled the chair with the man to the side and then leaned in to check the monitors above him. He could see the rest of the jackals attending to Bezuhov in a bed somewhere in another part of warehouse and another three guards watching over the hostages in the dining room. Howard's eyes moved over the screens until he could see the monitors outside. He studied the images closely. There were woods surrounding their location, but nobody around in which to help them. Howard's heart sank as Sally came forward.

"Doctor — look at this." Sally was pointing down at the panel to his left.

There were several switches with labeled monitor locations, a joy stick, and a key. She motioned his attention to a bank of switches labeled 'Outside Locks'. He began flipping the switches to the off position and watched as the monitors above them began to blink off one by one. He then removed the key and stuffed it into his pocket. He had no idea what the key was used for, but he wanted it anyway. He took a deep breath and then looked at Sally.

"Let's get the others."

They headed down the corridor once again and into the elevator at the end of the hallway. Howard pushed the button for the second level floor and then watched the door close. As the elevator started to rise, Howard looked up at the camera in the upper corner. The little red light near the lens was off. The door opened and Sally peeked out. Nobody was in sight. They quickly moved down the hallway to another door with a card access pad attached to the wall near its knob. The normally green blinking light on the pad was off. They pushed on the door, which clicked and opened easily. They could see their bedroom doors to the left and right running down another long hallway and the open door to the dining room on the opposite end.

Howard adjusted the rifle on his shoulder. "Let's put you in your room until I can get the others to join us," he whispered.

Sally frowned at him. "No… I'm coming with you!"

"It might alert them that something is wrong if they saw you coming back with me. It's better this way," he said, as he opened her bedroom door.

"Do Ethan and the others know what you're doing?"

Howard looked at her and shook his head.

"Then — I'm coming with you."

"Please, I have to keep you save."

She glared back at him. "Young man — live or die, I'm not going to hide in my room while my friends are put in danger, I'll warrant you that!"

Howard stared at her, smiled, and then stooped down to open his bag. He pulled out two syringes and handed them to her.

"What's this?"

Howard removed two more syringes, the pistol, and then tossed the bag to the side. "Various drugs; a mixture of things I don't have time to explain. Just stab any of the guards if you have to." He handed her the pistol, but she hesitated.

"I… I don't know how…"

"Neither do I, but you won't have to shoot it. Just point it at one of the guards until Robert takes it from you." Howard removed the rifle from his shoulder and began inspecting the side of the weapon. He looked confused by its complexity and then shook his head before glancing up at Sally again. "I have no idea how to make this stupid thing work." Sally only smiled.

He took a calming breath. "You ready?"

Sally looked at the open doorway at the end of the hall and nodded. She was going to get Ethan.

Howard entered the dining room quickly and pointing his weapon. Luckily, the guards gathered together on the opposite side of the room were taken completely by surprise.

"Don't move!" Howard yelled. He moved forward quickly to aim the rifle at Bezuhov's men. The guards went for their rifles, but then Sally ran in pointing the pistol.

"DON'T!" she yelled at them.

"Sally, what are you doing?" She could hear Ethan's frightened voice behind them. Sally never took her eyes off the guards. One move, one flinch she didn't like, and she _would_ pull the trigger. For the sake of her friends, she knew this above anything else.

"Robert — get over here!" Howard yelled.

Robert came forward quickly to stand next to him.

"Robert, I have no idea how to use this weapon. Do you?" he whispered.

Robert looked at the guards and then at the rifle Howard had trained on them. He reached up to click the safety off. "Give it to me quickly."

Without waiting a reply, Robert grabbed the rifle out of Howard's hands. He slid the bolt back to chamber a round and then pointed the weapon at the guards again. The guards moved back slightly, convinced by his sudden actions that Robert Coleman knew how to handle the weapon.

"Sally, do you know if that weapon you're holding will fire or not."

Sally, the pistol now visibly shaking in her hand, replied, "No."

"Bring it here." Sally walked sideways over to him, never lowering her gun.

("If we don't try and stop them we're dead anyway,") one of the guards whispered in Russian to the others.

"Shut the fuck up!" Robert yelled back, aiming the rifle at them once again.

The whispering guard only smiled. "You… American, cop. You think you can go out?" he asked in very broken English. "You think you leave? I no think."

Howard came forward quickly and stabbed the guard in the shoulder with a syringe. The guard looked shocked, stumbled back, and then toppled to the floor.

Robert smiled as Howard reached down to remove the man's rifle and pistol.

"Nice job, doctor.

"Sally, where are you?" Sally came forward quickly to show him her firearm. Still aiming his rifle, Robert glanced quickly down at her weapon.

"You've seen enough movies in your long life to know you have to pull the slide on the top back, right? That will load the gun. Do it!"

With a shaking hand, Sally struggled and then pulled the pistol's slide back. The hammer set and she saw the safety switch on the side. She pushed it to off and then pointed it at the guards again.

"Good, girl. You're all set. If one of them moves, don't hesitate. You fire that weapon, hear me?" There was another round chambered across the room and they both looked over to see Benny pointing another pistol at the guards. Without saying a word, Howard moved forward and quickly stabbed another guard in the leg.

Robert smiled as the second man fell to the floor. "Jesus, doc, you're lethal with those things."

Howard was already removing the guard's weapons. He looked up at the unconscious guard's face and sneered. "I certainly hope so."

Robert waved the rifle at the remaining guard. "You go!" he commanded, motioning him toward the open hallway. "We're leaving and you're leading the way!" The guard raised his hands over this head and then turned to leave. They were almost near the hallway again when Howard stabbed the man in the back of the neck. The guard stumbled forward and then reached out to slam the panic button on the wall. The room remained quiet as the man crumbled to the floor.

Robert lowered his rifle and took a relieved breath. "Collect all the weapons you can, people. I'm going to give you a quick class in firearms."

Five minutes later, the hostages were leaving their make-shift prison and entering the warehouse. Robert looked around and then motioned the others toward a door with a red exit sign. He could see they were all terrified, but they were almost there. The group moved together, hiding behind a number of cars and then a large generator sitting a few feet away. Robert quietly made his way around to the back o fthe machine and within a few yards of the exit. Ducking behind a large transformer, Robert waved at the rest to follow.

"We're almost there, guys," he whispered. "The problem is… I don't know if an alarm will sound when we open that door." He pointed to the exit and the red and white sign in the center of the door that read, 'EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY – ALARM WILL SOUND'.

"It looks like a standard exit alarm, so we'll have to assume it's going to sound off on us." He looked at Howard. "Doctor, you said you saw what it looked like on the outside when you were in the control room. Tell me what you saw."

Howard looked around and then leaned in, gripping his rifle tight. "There's a large parking lot, maybe… a hundred yards wide on all four sides of the building and beyond that we're surrounded by woods."

Robert smiled. "Woods, ay? What did it look like on the other side of this door?"

Howard frowned. "I'm not sure. The monitors were marked north, east, south, and west, but I don't know how we're situated here." He looked around worriedly and then back at Robert again. "I'm sorry; I should have paid more attention."

"You did fine, doc. Great, in fact." Robert flipped his rifle over and to a compass embedded in the stock. He pointed at the door again. "That way is east." He looked at Howard again. "Ring any bells?"

Howard thought and then looked at Sally. "I think I remember seeing some hills on the east side."

Sally agreed. "Yes, that's right. There were a lot of trees and a big hill.

Robert smiled. "Good, excellent. Okay, so when we get out… our first priority will be to get into the woods for cover, then we'll make our way into the hills as quickly as possible. That should give us a better position if we're forced to fight." He looked down in his jacket pockets and at the extra magazines there.

"Now listen to me, all of you… it's really important to understand that we're all depending on each other if we expect to make it out of here alive. If you _think_ you should fire your weapon for the sake of the others — then do it. Don't hesitate to think about it, just point and fire, got it?"

He looked over the transformer again and then back at the group. They all looked scared. He tried to reassure them. "You're all doing great, but remember what I said — if you think you should fire then do it, and if I tell you to run, then you run like hell and don't look back, okay?"

"Эй! Заложники отсутствуют!"

They all ducked down again.

"Тут же, тут же!"

Robert peered over the transformer and could see one of the guards yelling and pointing at them. He ducked down again.

"Shit! They see us!" He suddenly stood up. "But they don't know we're armed yet!"

"Осторожно!"

Robert sent a blast of rifle fire at the men and then ducked down again. "They do now!"

Several blasts of gunfire answered back and several bullets began to ping and ricochet around them. Some of the rounds tore through the metal siding on the wall behind them and circles of white light from the day outside began to brighten their hiding spot.

"We have to get to the door right now before more guards come. I'll stay here and keep their heads down while you guys run for the door."

"Robert!" Kari replied.

"Not another fucking word, Kari. You go right now!" He stood, fired a blast, and then yelled down at them. "RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" He aimed and fired again and again.

Howard stood and fired his weapon as well. The recoil surprised him and he toppled backward to the floor. Benny grabbed Kari's hand and ran for the door. Ethan grabbed Sally and followed them, ducking low. Ethan pointed his pistol to the right and, without bothering to look at where he was aiming, he fired several rounds. The four of them hit the bar across the exit door at almost the same time; it flew open and an alarm bell began to wail. Robert was still standing erect, blasting at anything he saw moving within the warehouse. Howard was lying over the transformer, firing his weapon next to him.

"Robert, come on!" Ethan's voice cried out.

Robert looked over and could see the others lying on the ground outside the door. They were waving at him to follow.

"Just go!" Robert yelled back, as he ducked down to eject an empty magazine. He locked another in place just as a storm of bullets crashed in around him.

"I think my gun is jammed." Howard said, ducking to avoid being killed.

Robert looked over to see the side of Howard's weapon stuck open. "Here take this one." They traded rifles and Robert ejected another empty magazine from Howard's weapon. He slapped another in place and yanked the bolt back. He looked at Howard again. "You should have gone with the rest, doctor."

Howard looked at him and then ducked again as another volley of bullets blasted the space around them.

"Они - снаружи. Вы и Вы, доберитесь там!"

"I'll cover you while you run for the door," Robert said, as he readied himself to fire once more.

"You're closer. You go first!"

"God damn it, doctor, don't argue with me! If your gun jams again, you'll be killed."

"I'm the reason you're all here. You go!"

Robert ducked down again as more bullets hit the wall behind him. Suddenly they heard several other bells ringing from the other side of the warehouse. Robert peeked over the transformer and then ducked down again.

"Shit! They're going outside. Doctor, we've got to go now!"

Howard looked at Robert. "Then go! They'll need you outside more than me. Go on!"

The cop looked over at the door again. It was full of bullet holes and hanging on one hinge, the alarm bell still blaring. He looked at Howard again.

"Okay, I'll get out and then cover you so you can follow, all right?"

"Yeah, okay… just go!" Howard brought his rifle up and began to fire again and Robert started running for the door. He could hear more alarm bells going off on the other side of the warehouse. He dove into the light outside and immediate looked around for the others. He could see them running across the expansive parking lot, heading for the woods on the other side. Robert turned and crawled back to the open door and began firing his weapon into the warehouse again.

"Come on, doctor, let's go!"

Howard looked back at Robert lying on the ground outside. The detective looked like he was a mile away. Howard rose up, fired again, and then began running for the door. Robert couldn't believe how slow the man was moving, as the gunfire from the other side of the warehouse increased ten-fold. Robert saw Howard's legs crumble as pieces of flesh and bone were torn from his body.

"Doctor!"

Howard screamed in pain as he fell to the floor as more bullets began pinging against the concrete around him.

"Doctor, stay down — stay down!"

Howard looked at Robert who was still firing into the warehouse. He looked down at his badly broken legs and smiled. After all his fear of pain and death, he was surprised at how little his wounds really hurt him. _Eight months in rehab and I'll be fine_, his analytical reasoned. He reached over to grab hold of his weapon once more and then dragged it across the floor around his body.

"Doctor!"

"Убейте его!"

Howard saw several guards rising up to fire at him. _Perhaps God would forgive me now_, he thought. He smiled again as he pulled the trigger and watched in amusement as the sparks from his ricocheting bullets filled the space in front of him.

"Убейте его!"

"Doctor!"

Robert watched in horror as Howard's body was suddenly ripped apart by their murderous response. He closed his eyes when he saw the sparks from the bullets hitting the concrete under his head.

"Shit!"

("Don't move — drop the weapon!") a voice screamed from behind and Robert looked around to see one of the guards running around the building toward him. The detective thought about Tiago.

"Bull shit!" he yelled back. He raised his weapon and pulled the trigger. It was empty. The guard raised his weapon to fire and was suddenly spinning even before Robert could hear the gunfire coming from the woods to his left. The guard fell to the ground and was still.

"Robert, come on!" Benny yelled at him.

Robert tossed his rifle, got to his feet, and started running.

"Come on, come on," Benny yelled. A number of loud pops began to explode behind Robert as he ran past the boy and into the woods. Benny began to fire back, hitting at least two more guard as they rounded the corner of the warehouse. Robert fell to the ground near Ethan's feet. He looked back as Benny cut down a third guard.

"That kid's deadly with that God-damned thing," Robert wheezed, trying to catch his breath.

Kari fell down to hug him. "Oh Robert, thank God, thank God!"

"Benny!" Robert yelled through the trees. "That's enough, we have to go."

The boy looked back. "What about dad?" He started firing again at the warehouse, even though there were no other guards in sight.

"Benny, no! You're dad…" Robert hesitated as Benny looked around at him. "Come on, son. We have to go now."

Benny frowned and then Robert could see the comprehension filling the boy's face. His expression suddenly turned angry.

"I'm not leaving without Dad." Benny yelled back, and he began firing wildly at the warehouse again.

"Damn it, kid… your dad is dead!" Robert screamed at him, but Benny couldn't hear. He kept firing until his rifle stopped.

"Robert?" Kari said. She looked horrified. "Uncle Glad?"

Robert looked at her and shook his head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." Kari suddenly looked appalled. She fell into Robert's arms and burst into tears.

Sally fell into Ethan's arms. "He was so brave."

"Там они! В лесу — там!"

Six more guards suddenly appeared from around both sides of the building and Robert quickly got to his feet.

"Benny. We're leaving!" Robert yelled. He grabbed Kari's hand and pulled her with him as they started running deeper into the woods. Ethan and Sally followed him, as Benny pulled out a pistol and began firing angrily at the approaching guards.

"Mother fuckers, God damn mother fuckers!"

195


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23d03

Chapter 23 (Draft 03)

"Keep moving! Don't look back — run!" Robert screamed at Sally, Ethan, and Kari who were running in front of him.

"What about Benny!" Kari yelled back.

Robert was still looking back for the boy and Benny was suddenly running past him in a blur of incredible speed. For a young man recently too confused to keep his mental balance in check without the proper medication, the nucleus of his brain that contained the elements of self preservation was on full alert, his ability to catch the others amazing.

"I'm coming!" Benny yelled ahead to Kari.

There was an abrupt series of popping sounds tattering behind them and a terrifying zip-ping-zinging shrill of bullets flying past their ears. It was machine gun fire.

"Keep moving! Run!"

Robert turned to raise his pistol at the approaching men. He sent his reply back with three quick blasts and the hunters scattered.

Robert turned to run once more, dodging around several trees for cover. He threw himself to the ground just as a barrage of lead screamed over his head.

"Robert!" Kari screamed back.

"Don't stop, God damn it! Keep running!"

"Kari… come on!" Ethan yelled back. "Robert knows what he's doing. He's giving us a better chance to get away."

Benny was suddenly running past them, continuing his headlong flight toward the thickening woods ahead.

"Benny!" Kari screamed. The boy slid to a stop and then turned. He started waving frantically.

"Come on! What are you doing? Let's go!"

"But Robert!"

Benny suddenly looked angry. "What are you doing? Come on — you can't stay here. Run!"

The other three joined him and continued toward a dark stand of trees as Kari muttered her prayers. "Please, God. Please help Robert. Please, God, keep him safe. Please!"

Robert watched as the group disappeared into the trees over the hill above him and he smiled. They just might make it after all. He took a deep breath and peeked around the trunk of a tree and at the approaching Russians. He saw a series of flashes and the tree exploded in a shower of splinters and bark. Robert jerked back just in time.

"God — damn it. Mother fuckers!"

Pressing his back against the tree, he quickly shuffled his body upright and then turned to face the trunk acting to protect him. The flying wood splintering into bits and dust around him kept him pinned. He narrowed his focus at the details of the bark and found himself marveling at the detail, the texture of the gnarled old wood was unexpectedly remarkable to him. The noticed a string of ants casually moving in a meandering line up and down its length.

"I wish I could shrink myself down and join you guys right now," he whispered to the tiny creatures that seemed completely oblivious to the chaos surrounding them and the explosion of rapid gunfire smashing into their home again. Robert ducked down.

"Christ!"

And then a unexpected bend of comprehension came to him. They were pinning him down, keeping him from moving as their killer friends closed in. How long had he been stuck there? They must be close, judging from the continuing stream of bullets now pounding into his protection. His fear quickly doubled. He flew his pistol around the tree and fired blindly. He was right; two of the men were nearly on top of his position. One of them dove to the ground as the other raised his rifle to fire back. He missed Robert by inches and the cop adjusted his aim to return the violence. The man's chest exploded as he fell back and Robert ducked behind the tree again.

"That's really going to piss his friends off. I gotta move!"

Robert gave a heave and suddenly found himself envious of Benny's speed. He took a step in the direction where his friends had disappeared and was suddenly slammed in the back with what he instantly thought must have been the butt end of a rifle. The blow spun him around to face the tree again before he felt another crack in his back break bone – probably a rib. His legs were immediately unable to hold his weight and Robert slide down the trunk of the tree. He could see his own blood mixing with the details of the bark and he watched the line of ants stopping to inspect this curious fluid now smearing through their meandering line. The detective found it hard to breathe as he finally fell backward to the ground and onto his back, surprised only by his sudden weakness to stop himself.

"Robert!"

Kari was suddenly by his side.

"Oh God, Robert."

_What is she doing here? She should have been gone with the others, escaped!_ His anger suddenly lashed out.

"Kari… what are you doing? Go… run… before they…"

"Oh Robert. You've been shot. I have to stop the bleeding." She began working on the open wounds she could see in his chest.

Robert was spitting up blood, but his anger was still strong.

"Go! Kari… you have to… to run…"

"Robert… I can't leave you here. They'll kill you!"

"I'm already dead, Kari. You have to run."

"Oh — Robert, oh God, don't say that. Let me help you."

"God damn it, Kari. Run… run!" He tried to push her away.

She came forward to look into his eyes. "I… I can't… I won't leave you…"

He raised a weakening hand. "Take the pistol. You promised me you would run if I told you to, Kari. You promised me."

She took the bloody pistol from him. "Oh Robert…"

From the far off trees, Sally, Benny and Ethan watched in horror as the men with rifles began to circle the spot where Kari had disappeared.

"Oh God, Ethan. Where is she?"

"She's trying to find Robert. Come on, Kari, get out of there. They're coming."

"Please Kari, come back. God — please protect her!" Sally whispered.

"You promised me, God damn it," Robert wheezed, coughing up more blood. "Don't break your promise to me now. You have to go!"

"Oh Robert."

He pushed her away. "Go!"

Kari sniffed and then slowly began to stand. The gun she held in her dangling arm looked to heavy for her to carry. She was immediately struck several times and Robert watched in horror as the bullets hitting her back left her front. She chirped out a gasp of surprise and then pitched forward to fall on top of him.

"NO!" Sally and Ethan yelled together.

With the last bit of strength left to him, Robert rolled her body over to lie on top of her. He could see her eyes were still wide with shock, left open from the suddenness of her death. He looked down into her eyes staring blankly back at him and he marveled at the tiny flecks of green randomly intermingled within the brown. Even in death she was beautiful to him. He reached up, and with a shaking hand he closed her eyes for the last time.

Ethan and Sally watched in terror as the men chasing them stopped at where Kari had fallen. They formed a circle and then raised then rifles. They fired again and again, and the blasts of their sins echoed like thunder through the trees and cold air surrounding them.

When they finally stopped, it was Benny who finally found the courage to speak first. He opened his eyes, crossed himself, and then tugged at Sally and Ethan.

"We have to go or they'll kill us too," he whispered.

Ethan looked at Sally who was leaning against him and crying hysterically. He reached out to hug her close. The world seemed so old and bitter to both of them.

"Come on! We have to go; they'll be coming after us next."

Sally and Ethan looked back to where the men had killed Robert and Kari and could see one of them pointing at their position in the woods. Benny was right. They stood together, careful to keep themselves concealed, and then turned to move deeper into the woods.

xxxx

186


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24d07

Chapter 24 (Draft 07)

Eight months later.

Bezuhov was lying in his bed unable to raise his head. The oxygen mask strapped tight to his face was now a permanent fixture to his angry expression. His demons were standing around his bed as the boldest of the denizens worked to deliver the morning report.

"Мы изолировали ген зашифровывания, который предназначается для белка, сэра." ("We have at last isolated the encoding gene that targets the protein, sir.")

Bezuhov didn't seem to care anymore. His stare fell down his length to the doctor standing at the foot of his bed.

"И?" ("And?")

The doctor looked at his peers and then took a worried breath. ("This means we can predict who will and will not revert, sir.")

Bezuhov took another rasping heave. It clicked and wheezed forward as he grunted again.

("And?")

("Unfortunately, sir, your markers lead us to believe your body is not yet set for reversion.")

The jackals looked nervous as the bold one quickly moved to deliver hope. ("But we can also report the markers have now shown themselves in Tiago's family where they did not previously exist. This means there _is_ an environmental component just as Doctor Howard hypothesized.")

Bezuhov's eyes turned to fall upon another doctor who timidly came forward to report, ("We… have not yet isolated the compound or components within the fifteen locations we've discovered thus far, sir. We do know, however, that whatever this component, it is the cofactor required for FHF19 and 21signaling and thus determine the tissue-specific metabolic activities. I believe we're very close now. It's just a matter of days, sir.")

_A matter of days_, Bezuhov thought. How many times had he heard those words over the last eight months? How many times had he heard this promise since they let the Carmichael woman escape? The old man raised a shaking finger to the side and the doctors quietly left the room in single file. Bezuhov's eyes moved to his minion standing alone in the corner of the room. The muscled man's face looked solemn as he straightened to cup his hands in front.

"Да," Bezuhov whispered.

The muscled man unbuttoned his jacket, nodded, and then left the room.

The old man was left alone to continue his private cursing of God. All during his long life, Bezuhov knew of God's existence ever since the day he shattered Motova's halo with a bullet to his brain. In that dirty cell in the bowels of Moscow, he knew then this indulgence and offense would come back to haunt him above all the other killings in the decades that followed. Now that time had finally come.

He thought about how much he had enjoyed raping Motova's wife, the controlling power of it, and how he couldn't wait to reveal to the man that it was his wife screaming in the cell next him. Lying there in his deathbed, Bezuhov couldn't help smiling as he remembered lowering the barrel to Motova's head and then pulling the trigger for the sake of riches. Although he had murdered before, this he knew was one of God's saints. He could still remember the celestial tutelaries groaning in the spaces surrounding him as the man's brains splashed all over the dirty floor. After that murder, Bezuhov stared up at the ceiling above him and to God who he knew was watching with dismay from the other side.

'There,' he said, in solemn contentment, 'it is done. Condemn me later, but for now… let me be rich!'

There were so many other murders that followed that day, and Bezuhov often wondered if God would care enough about his evil deeds to set aside some special form of earthly punishment before he was cast into the lake of fire. And as he got older and richer and more powerful, he came to expect his death would be something grand, something beckoning a songbook of lessens applicable to God's wrath upon men who choose to act out their foulest ambitions, perhaps another Herzog narrative equal to _Aguirre_. 'From now on we will move downstream'.

But no; his narrative was never to come. There were no punishments waiting for him, no wonderful impalement with a greased pole up his ass, no tickler to tear the skin from his body, no brazen bull to turn his screams into lowing. The man prepared himself, but always found himself waiting, continuingly nervous, loathing the delay.

And then he had the answer, a way to keep God's eventual punishment at bay. He would seek and find Tiago and Sally Carmichael's secret and live into another life. He would keep the riches gathered in this life and enjoy them in a second and then, perhaps, another again. What a wonderful plan. And if he were to become a child again, with no recollection of his past crimes, and grew to enjoy his riches as a holy man, how could God fault him? The brilliance of it made his soul dance for the first time since the day he pushed Motova into that truck on the streets of Moscow.

The old man looked at the empty room surrounding him and then cursed God again. The Maker had found a way to beat him after all and delivered a punishment worse than the Garrotte. He had wasted years searching for the answers he needed to invoke his plan to laugh in God's face. He knew now he would die only days, perhaps just hours, from an eternal life absent of subordination to the so-called _Creator of all_. Worse than that, it would seem God intended to offer this gift to those lesser beings Bezuhov would leave behind, the gift he was to be denied.

_I don't think so._

Suddenly there was yelling coming from the hallway. "Нет! Что Вы делаете? Мы можем все еще находить ответ! Нет!" ("No! What are you doing? We can still find the answer! No!")

BANG — BANG — BANG — BANG — BANG — BANG — BANG

Bezuhov smiled under his mask again. Not all of those he left behind would receive God's gift. His doctors had failed him for the last time.

("No!")

BANG — BANG

BANG — BANG

The old man cursed God again as the gunfire continued.

It was early on Sunday morning as a car pulled onto Embers Street and continued slowly up the residential road. The passenger in the front seat was looking out the window and up at the familiar trees lining the sidewalks. The car braked to a crawl as the driver leaned over the wheel to look at the addresses on the mailboxes. Something hit the floor in the backseat that pulled his attention away from the road.

"It's the white and brown house there on the right," Benny said, pointing to at tutor home who's unkempt lawn looked out of place in the upper middle-class neighborhood. He looked over at Ethan Dodge who was driving.

The car came to a cautious stop in front of the house and both men looked around guardedly.

"How's it look to you?" Ethan said, glancing nervously around at the other homes.

Benny rolled down the window and the spring breeze began to fill his senses. "Oh, I've missed that smell," he said, closing his eyes.

Ethan was unsettled. "Stay with me, now," he said, patting the boy's chest. "I need to know if anything looks strange to you. Does anything seem out of place?"

Benny opened his eyes and looked around. "Well… it looks like the Johnsons got a new car over there," he said, pointing to a red sedan parked in the driveway across the street.

Ethan didn't like the sound of that. He leaned forward to inspect the vehicle closely. "You sure it's theirs? I might be…."

"Nah," Benny replied, cutting Ethan short. "Doug Johnson always buys that same model. We think he gets a discount."

Ethan looked around again. "Anything else?"

"The Coopers finally cut down the old tree that was breaking up the sidewalk." Benny smiled at him. "The association threatened to fine him if he didn't so something about it." He turned more serious. "I think everything looks all right."

Ethan nodded and then put the car in park. Something else hit the floor behind him and he reached back to grab a backpack off the seat. He handed it to the boy. "Okay, here you go. I'll sit here until I see you go inside and I know that you're safe, okay?"

Benny looked in the seat behind them and then back to Ethan. "Are you sure about this? You know I wouldn't mind staying with you and Sally a while longer. I think we made a pretty good team."

Ethan smiled and then reached over to hug the boy. "You've been a great help Ben, but it's time you returned to your family and your own life now. It's time you told them about your dad and Kari and Robert and about everything that happened."

Benny hugged Ethan back and then looked to the rear again. "Are you sure that bastard still isn't looking for us?" He looked worriedly around at the neighbors' houses once more.

Ethan glanced around and then back to Benny. "Can't be completely sure, of course, but now the news is full of people with Sally's condition. Bezuhov could take any one of them if he still needed to run his tests. I don't believe Sally would be nearly as important to him after all this time."

Benny nodded and then thought. "Do you think it'll happen to us when we get old? Do you think we'll start getting younger like Sally and Tiago?"

"No idea," Ethan replied with a shrug. "Now that it's happening everywhere, I guess only time will tell."

Benny pointed at the dashboard. "I heard on the radio that China is now saying they have confirmed twenty new cases and there's five more in Mexico."

"Yeah, but more than a hundred thousand people are dying each and every day of natural causes in the world. Not everybody is reverting yet. Statistically, it's still a very select group."

Benny looked at his house again and then back to Ethan. "Maybe when our time comes, we'll all be reverting."

Ethan thought about Sally and what she would say in response. He smiled. "And maybe by then we'll figure out if that's really a good thing."

Benny smiled back. "I think it'd be great!"

A stereo began to play inside the house and Benny smirked. "Julie and Janice must be home," he said with a grin. "Mom would yell at them all the time for playing the music that loud."

They heard a voice inside yelling, "Janice, turn that racket down!"

Benny looked over at Ethan who was already smiling. "You'd better get going, Ben. Your mom and your sisters have been waiting long enough."

Benny heaved and then nodded. He opened the door, but Ethan grabbed him by the shoulder before he got out.

"Thank you, Ben. Thank you for saving us so many times and for being so brave."

Benny grinned. "And without my meds too — who would have thought it possible?" The boy looked around again and then back to Ethan. "When you get a chance, will you tell Sally I love her and I hope to see you guys again sometime?"

Ethan nodded. "When we get settled, we'll let you know — I promise."

The boy nodded and then got out of the car. He pushed his arms through his backpack and closed the door. Bending down to look in one last time, Ethan could see him waving into the backseat. He then turned and headed for the house and Ethan pushed the button on the driver's side to lower all the windows in the car. The boy was right; the air smelled wonderful. There was another bump in the floor behind him.

As Benny approached the front of the house, the door opened and the music was suddenly blaring. A girl stepped outside looking amazed.

"Benny?"

Another girl stepped onto the porch beside her sister and screamed. They both came forward and crashed into the boy, screaming and hugging him madly.

"Mom! Mom! It's Benny. Benny's here!"

A woman in an apron suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"Benny! Oh, my God!"

"Mom!"

She rushed forward even as Benny tried to break away from his sisters.

"Dear God, oh God, oh God!" the woman screamed, wrapping her arms around her son's neck and kissing his face.

The family was howling and crying and hugging one another, and although there would be great sadness in the moments ahead, for now… Ethan thought they looked pretty happy together. He had learned months ago how to appreciate even the smallest moments of gladness and how to prolong their impact upon him. He smiled, dropped the car in gear, and then slowly pulled away. He watched them in his rearview mirror and could hear the mother's cries of joy continuing as he turned the corner.

Ethan slowed again and parked on the side of the curb. He picked up his cell phone, dialed, and then waited.

"This is Doctor Sajid."

"Hello, doctor. Thank you for taking my call on a Sunday."

There was a pause and then, "Hello to you, sir. I hope everything is well with you and our patient."

"Thanks to you the patient is doing very well, doctor. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your continued support."

"Not at all. So… how is she doing? Tell me what you can, please."

Ethan looked in the backseat and grinned. "She's as stubborn as ever… but looking well to me."

"That's good." Ethan could tell from the man's tone he was smiling. "When can I see the two of you again? We can meet in seclusion again, with all the precautions, if you like. Please, it's been months. We've been so worried here."

"I don't know that I trust taking her out in public yet. I know you understand."

There was a disappointed pause. "Yes — yes, I do, of course. But you should know that we received two more cases of reversion here at the University just last week. That makes eight in the last two months. It seems to be increasing logarithmically within the general population. That would mean the danger to the two of you should be minimal given the fact there are so many others now."

"Perhaps, but I still prefer a cautious approach. I've kind of fallen into that habit the last few months."

"Very well, I understand. But please — call me if you change your mind. We could still learn so much from her."

"If she's still important to you… she still might be important to others. Did you get the blood work I sent to you?"

"Yes, the day before yesterday; I have the test results here to share with you."

"Okay, shoot."

"Her levels of klotho in her bloodstream are back to normal and the allele frequency is looking very positive."

"What about the Marker 1 allele?"

Ten minutes later:

"The gene encoded an unknown putative type I membrane protein that we're very excited about. It consists of an N-terminal signal sequence. The repeats share the same homology and exhibit nearly forty five percent sequence identity to the lactase glycosylceramidase we spoke of earlier."

Ethan looked in the backseat and gave a happy thumb up.

"All of that sounds like good news, doctor. Am I wrong?"

"No, no, this is really, really good news. It means her condition has finally stabilized."

"No more reversion?"

"No, sir. I would be very surprised to hear another report from you saying otherwise."

"And what about going forward, what should we expect?"

"Well… I would expect she would begin to age normally, a standard rate given any woman her age." The doctor paused again. "Speaking of her age, can you give me an estimation? Can I speak with her?"

Ethan smiled into the phone again. "You know me better than that, doctor."

"Please, sir. It would mean so much to us here at the university if we knew what to expect in the others."

Ethan thought about it and then nodded. "I'll tell you what: I'll send you a picture. You can expect to see her in your mailbox in about a week."

"Oh, that is so very exciting, sir. Thank you. I will inform my staff to expect this data from you."

"_Your_ _staff_, doctor? Does that mean you got the promotion?"

"Oh yes. I am now the Director of Healthy Aging here at the University."

Ethan smiled. "Doctor Sajid that's wonderful and well-deserved, I might add."

"Thank you. I only hope I can live up to the standards set by my predecessors."

"In my opinion you already have, doctor. You already have.

"Well… I have to go. I'll make sure you get that photo, I promise." Ethan shut his phone and then opened the glove compartment. He pulled out a camera, unbuckled his seatbelt, and turned to face the back.

"Smile, sweetheart. This is for Doctor Sajid at the University. You remember Doctor Sajid, don't you?" The camera flashed and there was another bump on the floor behind his seat.

Ethan set the camera down and then reached back to pick up a number of toys off the floor. He smiled and reached out to hand them to a baby sitting in the car seat behind him.

"You dropped your toys again, Sally. You're going to lose them if you're not careful." The baby smiled at him and reached out joyfully for her toys once more.

Ethan looked around cautiously before settling himself in the front. He buckled his belt and then put the car in gear. As he pulled away he looked in his rearview mirror.

"Are you hungry, Sally?"

Two weeks later:

("Thou only Creator Who with wisdom profound mercifully orderest all things, and givest unto all that which is useful, give rest, O Lord, to the soul of Thy servant who has fallen asleep, for he has placed his trust in Thee, our Maker and Fashioner and our God.")

Burials at the Kremlin Wall Necropolis are extremely rare. In fact, the burial of dignitaries on Red Square ended with the funeral of Konstantin Chernenko in 1985. Perhaps that's why there were so few Russian notables standing around the casket as the priest continued with the prayers. There were no heads of state, no crying family members, and certainly nothing of the current Russian government to honor the memory of the dead man that morning. There would be no plague on the wall for Bezuhov, no spruce trees to mark his final passing. Parts of the steps leading to the wall were removed the day before, the public only told the tented area was off limits for their own safety as repairs continued.

The muscled man was there as well; the only member of the old guard still breathing. Dressed in black, he looked brooding as he watched the small gathering of old men standing at attention to his master's memory. They disgusted him. Bezuhov had told him about these fat relics, those who had benefited the most from his master's work, the holder of keys to all the doors that entered his master's labyrinth. The man sneered at the metals and honors they wore so proudly upon their chests; they hadn't earned any of them. He glowered down at one of the general's pants. They were faded, tattered at the heel, disgusting. He watched as the general's eyes roved wantonly over the casket to settle upon the Order of Victory badge seated in its center. Bezuhov's man growled under his breath. He could see the diamonds and rubies from the badge lighting the pig's soul within. This last dishonor would cost the man his life by nightfall, the muscled man would see to it. The rest would be dead soon afterward. All the old debts settled before his master's ledger was finally burned.

("Behold, I long for Thy precepts; in Thy righteousness give me life,") the priest continued, completely ignorant of the man for whom he was praying.

The muscled man looked left and to the Lenin Mausoleum. Its red granite pyramid and blackened chains seemed the only appropriate place in which to honor his master's passing. A light rain started to fall and the cadence in the priest's voice began to quicken.

("…is made possible and actual by the resurrection of Jesus Christ which is the destruction of the pit of death by the splendor of divine righteousness and life. Amen.")

The sign of the cross is given and the book was finally closed. The old men adjusted their coats as each stepped forward to touch the casket before crossing themselves. The muscled man watched the old pig of a general reach out to touch the Victory badge before looking up at him. He seemed taken aback by the muscle man's darkened stare. His hand started to quake slightly before pulling back. That evening's duty couldn't come soon enough.

At last they were gone and only the muscled man stood alone by his master's casket. He looked behind him to see two men wet and shivering in the cold. They were clutching their coats at the neck with one hand and holding shovels with the other. He smirked as he reached out to straighten the Hero of the Soviet Union and the Order of Lenin ribbons on the casket's lid. He pulled a newspaper out from under his arm to read the headline.

(The World in Wonder as Hundreds Begin Getting Younger)

He looked up again and then laid the newspaper on top of the metals. He lifted his charcoal gray fedora and ran his fingers appreciatively over the fine felt before carefully setting it on his head. He looked at the casket again, smiled, and then reached out. He picked up the Victory badge and placed it into his pocket. He turned and watched the men with shovels quickly move passed him as the rain poured down.

Epilog

Eight years later.

Ethan was making lunch in the kitchen as he listened to the radio.

"Stella news time 12:10 pm. Meteorologist Jim Stewart reports on the weather every ten minutes. How we looking out there, Jim?"

"South-East NB weather: beautiful and warm today, continuing this evening with a high of sixty-eight degrees, dropping to fifty-two tonight. Clear skies over the next three days with better than average temperatures. Good spring weather. Enjoy it everybody!"

"Thanks, Jim. South-East news time 12:11pm: The government now reports reversion rates topping 97% for the month of March. In the meantime, the House Commission on aging is continuing their hearings today on ending Social Security for reversion patients that fall below retirement age. In related news, the hill is still reeling over the speech on Monday by Nebraska's Representative Browning. In that speech, Browning suggested a number of new taxes would be necessary to offset the costs of Healthcare as the aged revert. School programs are also in need of extra funding with the dramatic increase in student populations caused by reversion patients reentering…"

_click_

Ethan turned off the radio, popped a potato chip into his mouth, and headed outside with the plates.

"It's lunch time, Sally. Where are you?"

"Daddy, come push me!"

Ethan looked up and smiled. Sally was pumping back and forth on the swing in her favorite Sunday dress. He set the plates down and then stepped onto the freshly cut lawn.

"Daddy, push me!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

He grabbed the ropes on either side of her waist, pulled back, and then gave her a shove forward.

"Wheeeeee!" Sally screamed. She arched back as her feet skimmed across the freshly mowed grass.

"Wheeeeeeee!" she screamed again. "Is he really coming, daddy? Will he be here soon?"

"Yes, Uncle Benny is already at the airport. He'll be here shortly."

"Horray!"

As Ethan pushed Sally back and forth, he thought about their future together. He had done all he could to instill again her family's values, even taking her to her mother's old church downtown. Their relationship had changed dramatically, of course, but he knew he would someday see the woman he had fallen in love with almost a decade ago. Was this to be their future together? Crisscrossing back and forth through time, she becoming his mother if he reverted and then he her father once more if at the end of this, her second life, she started the process again?

Ethan was convinced the souls of the individuals reverting were the same. He could see it in Sally's manner, the way in which she took witness to the world and how she so easily accepted the role of God in their lives together. Yes, the little girl he had raised from a baby was the same Sally Carmichael all over again – the same wonderful soul in a rejuvenated body.

He thought about the news on the radio. How were families dealing with this new life? How were married couples handling what was happening to them? How would an eighty year old husband take care of a baby that was his wife just a year earlier? And what about their marriage vows: _to have and to hold_ and _to keep each other through sickness and health,_ were they still valid? Were they still applicable? Death had been redefined for everybody; how would the old morals fit into this new definition?

Ethan thought again about Sally's adult view of God's promise of everlasting life. He agreed with her first assumption this was not what God had promised them. It was only a promise delayed until some event, perhaps a tragic accident or some hideous crime, stopped the process they now called reversion. Perhaps this was God's way of helping mankind to receive his ultimate promise of heaven, where the process of aging and dying would _finally_ be set aside forever and the burden of survival thankfully relieved.

He thought about those who had died by accident or violence before or just after beginning the reversion process. Their loss seemed so terribly tragic now that humans could relive their lives over again. A life lost in the old world was a terrible thing, but now the passing seemed so much more significant and of greater consequence. He worried about his fellow humans losing their courage when facing the end of their lives. As Meek said, 'hearing the river of death running beneath one's breath and smiling as they waded into its cold and clear waters' deep.'

"Higher, daddy!"

Ethan's heart swelled as he pushed Sally again. And in that moment of love, a portion of given clarity suddenly came to him. Perhaps, in the end, this was what it was all about: Maybe reversion was God's second chance at finding true love and to share it unconditionally with all your heart and soul, and returning to one's childhood was just his way of retooling them for that unfinished journey to come. He thought about Mario's chart – _a second chance, another bite at the apple_. And once the lesson of love is truly embedded within all of them, maybe then the ultimate reward would finally be shared. He pushed Sally again.

"Wheeeee!"

Ethan smiled. If that was indeed the case, "_I don't think I'll need to revert at all_."

"Higher!"

192


End file.
